


Seeing Shadows

by PabbitSupporter



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Badass Kim Woojin, Humans are born with sentient shadows, M/M, Minor Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin, Minor Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Multi, being re-plotted. Yes. Like a plant.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22300681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PabbitSupporter/pseuds/PabbitSupporter
Summary: Changbin- a local, people avoiding librarian- finds himself bonded to the Shadow King with the responsibility of TWO realms in his soul.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Seo Changbin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 16
Kudos: 64





	1. [0] Intro.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic's my guilty pleasure.  
> Welcome to the chaos~  
> Updates to this will (in all hopes) alternate with TWW.  
> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

[1]

All around the city, people were walking. To their classes, jobs, dates, prior arrangements, and dreams. Busy. Ignorant.  _ Unconcerned. _

And where was Changbin?

Standing stock still in the middle of Seoul.  _ Right  _ in the middle of the busiest sidewalk in one of the city's most populated, commercialized areas.

His shadow was wrapped tightly around him, the power from the midday Sun effortlessly feeding it strength. Their combined aura of distaste created an imaginary force field around the human, causing the strangers to unconsciously avoid Changbin’s existence.

Neither of them wanted to be out. Or, more specifically, be out in an area so densely packed that shadows and people alike. As much as his shadow thrived in the daytime, Changbin wanted nothing more than to be curled up in a pitch-black room with nothing more than silence ringing in his ears.

Though the occurrence was rare, sometimes a stranger would brush up against Changbin and despite both parties efforts- the unsuspecting person could immediately feel  _ both _ of them. The power. The raw emotion. The capability to level the entire square in milliseconds. 

It would be comical if Changbin hadn’t seen the same reaction in every. victim. The way that they immediately paled, stumbled back, and bowed to their power and natural superiority. It was hard for Changbin to keep friends. Even his family had abandoned him years ago.

Most humans didn’t have the capacity to come in contact with even a drop of Chan’s full power. Shadows immediately knew of the title Chan carried, none of them dared to directly address him in the human realm. Be it by the human’s natural instinct to survive or the shadow’s well-founded fear, Changbin was doomed to be alone.

The smallest of brushes always set the both of them on edge.

Chan was all around him and no where, all at once. The shadow was constantly on the lookout for even the smallest of threats.

Changbin had no one to blame but himself for Chan’s actions.

[2]

**He thinks he’s hidden- doesn’t he? He’s really bad at it~ Aren’t you glad I’m so much better than...** **_that?_ ** **You got lucky with me :).**

_ Lucky isn’t the word I’d use. _

**He should at least move around.... They’re just standing there.. like a black hole in the middle of a city plaza...** **_in rush hour._ ** **How pathetic.**

_ How about you stop talking about them and do your job?  _

**Stop being so mean :(. You love me and you know it~!**

_ Fo- cus. _

Staked out on top of a building- for long enough that his back was beginning to ache- and crouched behind a stack of rusted pipes and moldy pallets, was Lee Minho in all his glory. Laying over him, shrouding his body and belongings from sight, his shadow sighed and curled closer.

Clutching the binoculars in his hand, Minho squinted at his target- enraptured.

**Seo Changbin. 20. Black hair. Brown eyes. Slim but muscular. 2 silver studs in his left ear. 1 in his right. Either wears all black or all pastels. Shitty combat boots. Goes to class on Monday and Thursday. Works at some library Tuesday and Wednesday. Lives in a skyrise apartment. Single.**

A man who has taken numerous lives before.

Unsuccessfully committed more attempts on himself than on others.

Dangerous.

To himself and others.

_ And the other? _

**Chris Bang. “Chan”.** **_King Chan._ ** **Older than I can put a number on. Most powerful shadow I’ve ever seen. He’s… on edge. Waiting for something to happen. He was just in the shadow realm for the first time in a while- and it didn’t go well. Something bad happened- and no, I don’t know what** **_or where_ ** **it was.**

Minho huffed at the unnecessary sass- even if he  _ was _ about to ask about the unplanned trip.

He’d heard all about the King and his glory. His subjects, as of recent times, had completely turned on him. The King had become too soft- stooping so far as to become attached to a human  _ and _ protect him.

It wasn’t like King Chan had a say when the one meant to be his human had been born. He couldn’t stop the bond forming. Minho doubted he’d ever consent to such a thing. What all-powerful being would want to be stuck to something as weak as a human?

**They’re waiting for something to happen. The human’s anxious. The power between them is crazy- I don’t know how those idiots near them haven’t sensed it. Makes me sick just being this close to them.**

At the thought, Minho softened a bit, allowing for his inner concerns to rise for a single moment:  _ are you okay? _

A simple question, but it held an ocean’s worth of emotions behind it- all of which Jisung could feel through their bond. The shadow practically glowed in response. His power flared, causing the air around Minho to sparkle and distort.

**I’m good!**

It was rare for Minho to actually ask such a thing- he could feel Jisung far better than most humans could to their bonded. Perks of truly loving his shadow, he supposed. Yet, it was still possible for him to misjudge Jisung’s capacity. Even though the shadow was capable of drawing on Minho’s own strength- it wouldn’t be a good strategy for a mission that lasted as long as this one.

There was no wavering in Jisung’s statement- he was being truthful.

_ Hopefully we’ll be done soon- I could kill for some jokbal. _

**It’s not good to joke about things like that, you know.** ****

If only they’d known earlier.

[3]

**We’re late again.**

_ I know! No thanks to  _ you _.  _

**I can’t wait till we meet them again! I hope they’re doing better this time, I’d really hate to have to save them** **_again_ ** **. Changbinnie-hyung already has to deal with so much.**

_ Can you stop talking and help me find our transfer? Binnie’s probably freaking out right now. You know how he gets. _

**Yeah. Whiny.**

_ Just like a certain shadow I know. _

**Sungie?**

_ Him, too. _

Hyunjin, indeed, missed his next transfer due to Felix’s unending chatter.

No matter how much he adored his shadow, he  _ really _ wished the shadow had an off button. Not having to eat or sleep or bathe or do any other sort of mundane human task leaves Felix with  _ far _ too much time to talk. And boy, could the shadow talk. About everything from the odd number of spots on a ladybug to the recent developments of a shadow-spectrum analyzer that even the media hadn’t gotten a chance to report on yet.

And it was all thanks to one Han Jisung. And his partner. Though Hyunjin had never met them personally, Felix was incredibly keen on maintaining his friendship with the other shadow- claiming they were twins at metaphorical-heart and could never be separated, regardless of what realm they were in.

Jisung’s partnership was responsible for a large part of the intelligence that Hyunjin and Felix were in possession of. Though the elder-  **by a** **_single_ ** **century! I don’t know why he acts like he’s all grand and wise!** \- refused to take payments from his best friend, the mysterious human ‘LM’ had  _ no _ issue leaving a not-so-pleasant letter on their doorstep with a random address and demands for compensation.

The weirdest part was that the exchange wasn’t always intelligence for money. LM accepted- and sometimes requested- other things as well. Once, it had been as simple as answering a sheet of basic algebra equations. Another time, it’d been short answer essay questions like “where do you see yourself in five years?” that left both Hyunjin  _ and _ Felix dumbfounded for days. Still, they completed every task without complaint (At least on the human’s half).

Apparently, Felix had asked Jisung about the weird behavior of his human once.

The shadow had basically come back to Hyunjin’s side in sputtering hysterics, complaining about his friend’s amused teasing. **He said Minho-hyung likes playing with things he finds pretty! And won’t tell me anything else! Since when am I less to him than some..** ** _Human??_** Hyunjin knew how close the shadows were and didn’t bother taking offense at the disgust in his shadow’s tone.

After all, it wasn’t like Felix was  _ his _ anyway.

Hyunjin wasn’t even sure if Felix could really be called a shadow, even. 

He’d brought the topic of the other’s weirdly bright aura up once and had learned quickly that it was an extremely taboo subject.

It was obvious that Felix was  _ old. _ Though, the shadow hid his serious nature behind giggles and light-hearted teasing  _ extremely _ well. Almost like it was a mask permanently stuck to his being.

And to make it worse, Hyunjin could barely feel Felix. Sure, they were bonded in the simplest sense of the concept- Hyunjin could hear Felix and Felix could force his way into possession of Hyunjin’s body. In a normal partnership, they’d be able to easily identify each other’s emotions and memories, exchange power, and maybe even be able to harness additional abilities. 

Hyunjin and Felix had none of that.

They were very much two individuals working together towards a common goal. Of course, they cared about the other’s well-being and would be somewhat affected if their other stopped existing.

But, it wasn’t anything like a real bond.

To Hyunjin, losing Felix would be the equivalent of losing a childhood friend who exclusively knew about his deepest secrets.

It would be sad.

Hyunjin would probably mope around for a few weeks before pulling himself together and moving on.

It would be nothing close to how much losing Seungmin had hurt.

[End Prologue]

Humans and Shadows exist peacefully in modern day society.

Their existences are at odds with each other at all times: 

Humans need food, community, clothing, water-  _ so  _ many things. Yet, they are also corporeal; full of easily replenishable strength; capable of having jobs, and lives, and dreams.

Shadows only need energy. The primary source being the sun, though they can absorb it from various other sources depending on their skill. Shadows can transport between dark places; take over electronics and sometimes bodies; and, flow freely between realms.

A proper partnership between the two species can be awe-inspiring. 

However, it will more likely be: dangerous, all-consuming, and/or horrific.

Whichever way it goes is completely dependent on those involved in each pair. 

One half can survive without the other- but, together they are stronger.


	2. [1] An Unwelcome Game of Hide and Seek.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chan loses his precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... so this is really the first chapter.  
> I promise this isn't just a Kick The Shit Out Of Your Bias fic.... really... it's not..  
> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

**_CHANGBIN_ **

The city was bustling. And he hated it. 

Changbin loved the feelings Seoul provided at night: the anonymity of abandoned alleyways and dark corners; the serenity of hushed animals in near-empty parks; the knowledge of shadows being weakened. He loved it all.

But- daytime was a struggle. Too many people, constantly doing too much with too little time. The people were always aggressive and too fancy. Too cold and too tense.

Changbin was a fan of sleeping in, not seeing the Sun’s rays, and picking up his meals from the corner store where the half-asleep high school worker couldn’t care less whether his hair was tamed or not.

It was the exact reasoning he gave for being so committed to his work at the library. The pay wasn’t necessarily _great_ , but hiding between the shelves when the Sun was at its fullest was too comforting for him to ever abandon. 

Even Chan agreed. **Libraries are great houses of knowledge.** The “and I can control every inch of the establishment, if need be” went unspoken. Those who went to such places in this day and age were often strange, peculiar people. All the better for Chan to keep an eye on.

Who would ever suspect that the King’s Human, who wore far too many awful combinations of ripped skinny jeans and fluffy, pastel sweaters, made his living being a bookkeeper? 

And yet, where was Changbin? At what time of day? With _how many_ people?

Frozen in the middle of Seoul, where the sky was free from obstructions and he felt like he was a step closer to death from heat stroke with every passing second.

His shadow was wrapped tightly around him- creating an invisible force field from the awful star- the power from the unbidden Sun feeding it’s strength.

Neither of them particularly wanted to be there. Too many uncontrollable factors. Too many humans and too many shadows. The veil between the realms was thinner due to the masses which belonged to each side.

The energy, which most of the crowd was seemingly ignorant to, was tangible for Changbin. It was suffocating. Unfamiliar and unwanted. 

The expanse and strength of an entire world that was not his was a mere breath away. 

Even Chan’s dense presence was doing little to calm the increasingly spiraling human. The shadow was twisting around, searching for cues Changbin was missing, constantly on the lookout for any possible threat.

It was Changbin’s fault. He caused the King to be so aggressively protective. All his fault.

If he wasn’t so weak- Chan would be free to reign. 

He’d have all the lesser shadows quivering at his theoretical feet and be able to _make_ them stay away from Changbin. Chan could easily, without even having to lift a finger or say a word, force shadows and their human counterparts, alike, to part and create a clear path in front of them.

However, Changbin was _weak_. 

Things were much different than they were in the past.

He was weak- but _stable_ . For the first time since Changbin could remember, he wasn’t addicted to the power his overwhelming negativity fed to the shadow. He didn’t _need_ the satisfaction of watching others to cower to know his value and place in society.

There were still days when he slipped and Chan was suddenly moving cars, tripping passersby, and breaking light bulbs but... he was getting better. Slowly

And as much as the shadow didn’t want to acknowledge it, the change was good for both of them.

Their relationship was symbiotic with a slight touch of parasitic tendencies. They each had issues to deal with- in both realms. And due to their bonded nature, they were forced to deal with the other’s problems in addition to their own.

Even if Chan didn’t **“make deals with** **_any_ ** **humans”** \- he’d been attached to the only one on the entire planet that could actually contain his overwhelming aura. 

At first, it’d been terrible. The balance, that is.

As a baby and adolescent, Chan had fiercely protected his human. Changbin’s parents, caretakers, and teachers all had serious issues even being in the young boy’s presence since the shadow was so strong. 

It led to a lot of crying, touch-starvation, dehydration, and missed meals. 

Changbin, though he had no idea of the reason, always seemed to be avoided.

He never made any friends.

It was rare that people would even _look_ his way. Regardless of their age.

Chan wasn’t familiar with the fine workings of humans, yet, but he grew to understand his human’s basic needs as time went on. It took a lot of convincing for the King to allow other’s near his boy. 

He’d started with Changbin’s parents. Letting them into Changbin’s life had been one of his best decisions that he’d ever made. The small boy’s cheeks filled out and a sparkle in his eyes shined incredibly bright whenever they picked him up. 

Perhaps, the most endearing part of it all was that the human was no longer feeding Chan. The Shadow King had no intention of taking energy from a human _child_ , yet it seemed that Changbin’s utter misery in his early years had slowly been filling a hole within Chan that he hadn’t known existed. 

Undeniably, they were bonded. Even if Changbin wasn’t aware of Chan’s unwavering protection- Chan was _attached_. Addicted. In a partnership with a child that would soon grow into a stunning man.

The pre-teen years were where the major issues began. 

Changbin was conscious enough to acknowledge Chan’s existence. _And_ , in turn, be constantly overwhelmed by the mere presence of the shadow. Chan very little courtesy when it came to masking his strength and shamelessly scared away all of his human’s friends. 

Honestly, if he could’ve, Changbin would’ve ran away too. Not like he hadn’t tried to. They fought. A lot. At all times of the day. There were just as many missed school days and arguments with fellow humans that just didn’t understand what it was like- being bonded to some... _thing_ as imposing as the Shadowrealm’s King.

It wasn’t Changbin’s fault.

It was always their fault.

No one ever understood what it was like. 

Having Chan the Shadow King attached to you- _for life_ \- wasn’t _easy_.

His life wasn’t filled with Fame and Fortune.

It was closer to Doom and Gloom, honestly. Being the rare human that _somehow_ held the ability to withstand the King’s powers- though, Changbin would greatly disagree- gave him a price over his head. There were groups in both realms that wanted him dead. Or worse, they wanted to capture him and force Chan to obey since they’d have his weakness in their clutches.

 _What idiots._ Changbin knows that Chan has a very… bad hold on his temper- and therefore, his power. There was no being in either world that could withstand the wrath of the Shadow King if his human were to be endangered in such a way.

The latter part of his teen years, after learning the finer details of Chan’s entitlement, were consumed by mass depression. Changbin lost his sense of self and was heavily influenced by the aura of the powerful shadow constantly hanging around him. 

He went as far as to spend multiple days on strike- hiding in a pitch black room and refusing to let anyone in or himself out. The hunger had be unnoticeable since he’d been so relieved at finally feeling _free._ The voice in his head was gone; the heavy feeling that fed on his soul was _barely_ there; and Changbin could almost hear his own thoughts for the first time in _years._

Though he should’ve just let Changbin play his games on his own, Chan hung around throughout the petty rebellions. Sure, Changbin found ways to grasp at happiness- briefly cutting off Chan’s nearly limitless supply of negativity- but they never lasted long.

It wasn’t like Chan was forcing the human to be so… down, either. It just came with the life. He had no intention to apologize for who he was.

Though, a couple years in Chan had cracked. _A little_.

One particularly delicious, rainy night- where Changbin had tried to shut him out using complete darkness- Chan had taken advantage of the streaks of lightning that were frequently filling the air. The brilliant energy made him a little bit high, if he’s being honest. It certainly influenced his mood enough to sit his human down for the first time ever and tell him to **stop being a child. Figure out what you** **_really_ ** **feel- not what you want to feel. Stop using my presence as an excuse for your issues.**

Just months ago- Changbin became an adult. Unlike his peers, he’d welcomed the age with open arms. On a particularly daring whim, Changbin had sat in a blank, well lit room and had a conversation with Chan for the first time.

If they were in this _thing_ \- whatever it was- for life, then they _really_ needed to be in a mutual agreement. Though one of them certainly had more “power” than the other in the relationship, it wasn’t like Chan could exercise the extent of it without a sufficient vessel.

Shadows, on their own, could manipulate the Earth in small ways- knocking things over, causing creaks or fragmented sounds; but, in comparison to a bonded spirit, the limits were pathetic.

From birth, the majority of people were partnered with a shadow. The confusion for scientists was the connection between human spirits and shadows: 

Was it possible to create and destroy shadows? How are shadows created- are there proportionate numbers of shadows to humans? Were there people who could harness multiple shadows? Were the shadows of twins identical? Do shadows have diseases and illnesses of their own? How are they affected by the health of their human?

Recent research found that it was possible, with a weak enough link, to separate a human from their shadow. The study had frightened many- causing debates of the ethics that led to such a conclusion. 

After all, shadows were _life_ partners. 

Who would want to do such a thing?

Changbin blatantly ignored all news of Human-Shadow relations.

He had all the answers. There was no use in speculating.

Following their agreement to be more cooperative, the gates between Changbin and Chan had opened. Memories and knowledge flowed between them. Chan had been considerate enough to only share an equivalent amount, as to not overwhelm the human’s brain. Changbin’s short twenty years was _nothing_ -not even a spec on the timeline- in comparison to the amount of time that Chan had been in existence.

A few of the most important points Changbin has internalized….

  1. Shadows existed the same moment the first life on Earth did and they multiplied incongruently. Splitting shadows into “new”, though weaker, ones was possible. That’s why the strongest shadows are the biggest, oldest, darkest, and the least torn. If the original shadow is powerful enough at the start, they can spawn an entire line of “family” and _still_ be conscious. Others are torn so far they lose their sense of self and take on completely new identities.
  2. The weakest shadows are assigned to inanimate objects, sentenced to live out their lives until the thing is destroyed. Strong shadows are attached to living beings, power aligning with sentience.



And lucky, _lucky_ Seo Changbin had the pleasure of being bound to the Shadow King. 

Of all shadows. 

What upper level being had the humor to assume Changbin had the mental capacity to control, cooperate with, and possibly rule with the _Shadow King-_ he didn’t know. But the moment Changbin _did_ find out…. 

Well. 

He might just let Chan have some good, old, unrestrained fun for once.

  1. Shadows don’t necessarily get _sick_ ; but, there are certainly ways to weaken them for extended periods of time. The main weapon being darkness. In a room filled with complete darkness and no light to feed from, (most) Shadows are rendered powerless. They can store power, much like humans and their nutrients, but it depletes relatively quick- especially if they’re in a realm that is not their home.
  2. If a shadow loses its strength- it doesn’t necessarily die. However, it can take such an excessively long and painful time to recover, that many of them would rather be dead. From what he’s experienced, shadows will go feral right before the point of total energy exhaustion. Being their last chance to protect themselves, it creates a burst of power that is actually the ‘body’ completely giving out. In that state, shadows are horrifyingly vicious and some even gain a rare, corporeal form which can temporarily increase their damage.



Chan had clamped up when Changbin had pressed him for more information on the topic, forcing the younger to drop the topic.

  1. And _that._ Age. Shadows are ageless. Though it’s sometimes possible to estimate the time since their conception, they don’t track how long they’ve been around. Time flows differently between realms, making it pointless to even attempt a calculation.
  2. The one topic that, as Changbin came out of his emotionally-intense teenage years, Chan had stressed was: health. While the shadow couldn’t get sick, if his human was weak- so was he. Bound shadows feed off their partner’s soul’s energy as a primary food source, causing many to forget that outside sources of energy even exist. But Chan, being the overly powerful being he is, often refuses to actively feed off of Changbin’s energy. At all. Stubbornly, he insists that the human “wouldn’t survive a minute” if Chan were to… _use_ him. 



That was another topic Changbin had dropped quickly. Because, in a way, it had been the first time Chan had really admitted that he was proactively thinking about Changbin’s welfare. He certainly never had before when he was constantly drunk off of the rampant negativity Changbin had dealt.

The talk of diets had ended with a one-sided compromise. Really, it was just Changbin being awestruck at the concern and immediately agreeing before his shadow went back to the typical “cold dictator” archetype he usually possessed. Changbin was required to: work out, eat proper portions, and sleep the minimum hours for optimal health every. Day. No matter how much work, or how many assignments, or who he spent his time with; Changbin _had_ to follow those three rules. 

If he didn’t- his life would quickly become dark.

Literally.

Chan- though he didn’t do it very often because of their shared dislike of the feeling and its after effects- would immediately and unashamedly take over Changbin’s body if he didn’t follow the rules. If there was even the slightest inkling that Changbin was being irresponsible and disobeying- Chan would seep into the younger’s mind, placing thoughts inside, influencing the younger’s subconscious. When that didn’t work- though, it usually did- the shadow wouldn’t hesitate to take it a step further. 

There had been far too many times in the past that Changbin had woken up at his desk in athletic clothes, covered in sweat, with a half-eaten banana in his hand. The transition between control always left both of them disoriented for hours. Of course, Chan recovered faster. But, there wasn’t much the shadow could do when his human was moping around like a vegetable for the better half of a day.

After the first time, Changbin had accused the shadow of wanting to test drive humanity. 

The idea was vehemently shot down with pure, unbridled disgust.

Chan was _the Shadow King._ He was at the top of the food chain in an _entire realm._ What interest could he _possibly_ have in controlling a puny, _weak_ , and easily-exerted _human_ body?

Changbin had been outraged. His (albeit, meager) pride was injured. The “Shadow King” was _so_ set on “caring” for him. Even going out of his way to extert energy and possess a _pathetic,_ human body; _just_ so that Changbin would _go to the fucking gym_. 

Why didn’t he just latch on to some other guy? Find the perfect specimen from a world’s strongest competition, or something? 

_Why Changbin?_

They’d put each other through cold shoulder treatment.

Changbin didn’t want to eat? Or get out of bed? Just stay up nights on end due to countless energy shots and drinks? Lay around and act like he wasn’t a homing beacon for negativity? Fine.

Chan wanted to ignore him? Pull away as far as possible and fuck with their emotional and physical limits? Mess with his daily life in ways that shouldn’t have been possible? Turn lights on? Break legs off of chairs? Shut electronics down before he had the chance to save his work? Make the temperatures inaccurate while he was cooking so that everything burned to a crisp? He wanted to turn Changbin’s life into a petty, B-rated horror show? _Fine._

The cold war didn’t last very long.

Changbin was nearly delirious while he was wandering the streets of Seoul. The lights were fading together, in and out, as he wobbled through various neighborhoods. 

The separation was driving him crazy. 

Half of his soul was missing.

Chan had left him two days ago. Like _gone,_ left. No longer was it possible to hear the shadow’s voice, or feel the oppressive, deep pressure when he was near. There were no nagging, condescending comments being made on various aspects of Changbin or his species. 

There was no one to save him when he was dragged into a dark alley.

No one to answer his cries.

His shadow had left him.

Chan abandoned Changbin.

Hands scratched and pushed at his body, forcing Changbin deeper into the maze of high walls. The attackers were harsh in their treatment; horrifyingly, not all of them were fully corporeal. Changbin had never encountered shadows with such physical existences before.

They whispered awful things in his ears; kicked at his legs until he had no option but to be ragdolled along the jagged concrete; used his hair as a handle for his body.

Vaguely, Changbin registered that he _should_ be feeling massive amounts of pain. There was no doubt that his pants were shredded (more than they usually were, at least) and large patches of his hair had been detached.

Everything felt like a dream. He couldn’t process anything. It _had_ to be a dream. Maybe Chan had planted something into his brain, again. Though, _this_ felt like a boundary that even the Shadow King wouldn’t cross- regardless of whether he was angry at Changbin, or not. 

This was utter torture. 

Changbin was stripped, tied up, and thrown into a metal dumpster. Forced to endure endless rounds of substances being thrown onto his body: ice, honey, sugar cubes, some sort of animal guts, something sticky that smelled suspiciously like blood. 

The worst had been the last bucket. A mixture of rats, worms, cockroaches, spiders, and ants. The works.

Changbin had given up begging hours ago. 

It was hopeless. 

There was no hope of rescue. Who gave a shit about him, anyway? Everyone had been forced away from Changbin, throughout his entire life. There were considerably more people and shadows wanted him- the human of the Chan the Wicked- dead.

The inhuman cackling, utterly nauseating and disorienting environment, the way that Changbin’s cries seemed to please his captors, the way that Chan had left him to die _alone:_ it was all awful.

Honestly, there had been points in his life where Changbin didn’t want to continue living. But- _this?_

He couldn’t see, couldn’t fight, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

But he could _smell_ and _hear_ and _think_ and it was _terrifying._

After what felt like hours, he was found.

Washed. And warmed. And fed. Though, his stomach immediately expelled all traces of sustenance. He slept in a bed. Was given clothes. Consoled when he cried throughout several consecutive nights.

When Hyunjin and Felix met Changbin, he’d been naked in a back alley. 

Inhumanly mangled. 

Shivering. 

Gaunt. 

Faintly panting. 

Covered in scratches, bites, and burn marks. 

Bloodied from rope that had been intentionally tied too tight. 

Frozen, terrified, and for all purposes: nearly dead.

Being deprived of every drop of his humanity after being called _pathetic_ _by his own shadow-_ well, his _past_ shadow- meant that Changbin required a _lot_ of time. To learn and rediscover himself.

Hyunjin and Felix were willing to accommodate him. They were nothing but attentive, doting, and patient. Even when he refused their touches or immediate presences, the pair waited for him to come to them with open arms. 

In the short time they were together, Changbin grew into himself with amazing speed. In the best times, Changbin came close to full consciousness- reacting and sharing quips with Hyunjin. Those typically ended with the elder retreating back into his shell, embarrassed and blushing at his sudden confidence. They accepted him in all forms.

The worst part, was that Changbin hated being alone. The silence was too loud. Memories of _that_ night constantly replayed his mind, regardless of how much he tried to suppress them.

Still, they saved him.

Helped him rekindle his faith in the world. Provided safety and constant reassurances no matter the hour of the day.

Felix’s unthreatening, bright presence floating around had put Changbin on-edge for the first couple days; but, eventually it had become a lighthouse; a place that the human could seek out and find soft comfort in. Though he couldn’t feel Felix directly against his skin, the positive energy the ...shadow? wrapped the human in was incredibly calming for the boy who had been drowning in negativity his entire life.

The sight of Changbin melting into Felix’s light left Hyunjin contentedly humming around their place.

They did their job. They saved another from the darkness.

When _Chan_ met Hyunjin and Felix, chaos ensued.

Chan came back to the human realm and was unable to find Changbin: he was outraged. He had been gone for what- like _fifteen minutes?!_ And Changbin was _missing_ . Not wallowing under the covers of his bed or beating the stress out of his body in a gym- he was… _somewhere._ Somewhere Chan would have to _fucking_ tracking down- using traditional methods and background knowledge because their innate ability to sense each other was closed. Forced shut some time ago. By Changbin’s active doing.

**What is he trying to hide?**

Their bond wasn’t exceptionally strong due to the human’s blatant mental block; but, he could still feel his human present in the world. Alive. 

Just barely.

His human’s energy was so weak that Chan would have thrown up on the spot, if he were capable. **Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen** **_fucking_ ** **minutes.** So, the King followed his instincts, letting blind rage take over.

Changbin’s quickly fading energy created a fire that he hadn’t felt in a _long_ time. 

Pursuing the trail created by the most primitive of emotions, Chan ended up outside of a dingy warehouse in the middle of a run-down district in Seoul. Never before would he ever came to such a place, the must of low-life auras resonating around the area was unequivocally repulsive.

When the ignorant human swung the door all haughty asking “what could you possibly need at _this_ hour?!”: Chan was easily triggered. 

(He tried to be civil? At least he gathered enough of his disorderly energy to knock, rather than just floating under the door or blowing it straight off off its shitty hinges??)

Rather than wait for an explanation, Chan was everywhere and nowhere all at once. His power stretched out across the premises, instantaneously searching every corner of the nasty little hideout.

The small hold that he had on his fury damn near bust when the positive flags came back to him. **He is here.**

Usually, Chan was the more level-headed of the pair. Ever the scholarly, too-old for the human world King of the Shadow Realm.

At that moment, Changbin was cowering. Shrinking away into the close embrace of Hyunjin and Felix- who had rushed back to the still-weakened boy’s side the moment a raging spirit burst into the room. They’d felt it coming- the imminent doom that was naturally possessed by the magnificence of an unleashed King. Despite the knowledge, they were powerless against such an existence.

Hyunjin and Felix were **too close.**

Chan saw pure black- his power spiking, barely within his control, unapologetically berserk. 

A _bsolutely no one_ was to _ever_ touch **Changbin.**

The most cognizant facet of Chan was frantic. He had desperately been trying to reel in his energy before- to limit the knowledge of his location- but _seeing_ **Changbin.** Feeling **Changbin**. Too pale. Too skinny. 

Had he looked this bad, before? 

The impulse to protect and safeguard caused the King to act before he thought.

Seeing _his_ human. **_Changbin._** In the arms of others. The arms of another... ‘ _shadow’_.

Everything happened so fast that Changbin wouldn’t be able to accurately remember the events. But, _Chan-_ Chan could recall every single action _and_ reaction down to the millisecond. He was hyperaware. 

Despite Felix’s best efforts to deflect the King’s rage- Chan overpowered him without an ounce of restraint. 

He would _never_ hurt **Changbin.** _Could_ never. Chan didn’t care about the other two. 

Hyunjin was thrown into a far wall, crashing and sliding down limp. Felix, torn between protecting his human and their charge, hesitated a moment too long before getting thrown in the same direction by a blast of sheer malevolent energy.

Protecting his human was hard. Made hard when the small boy sensed the presence of the partner that had abandoned him. Sheltered underneath several blankets, pillows, and the frame of a bed- Seo Changbin cried. Petrified and shaking. 

Just like he’d been that _awful_ night.

Chan yearned for him in a way he’d never felt before. Tried to coax **Changbin** out, verbally and through their bond.

The calls met silence.

Pride abandoned the instant that he let his emotions reign, Chan forced his power to simmer down and _begged._

Like he’d never done for another being and would never do again. Words that he had never uttered fell so easily into the air, spurred on by pure desperation.

Something was _wrong._ The King didn’t know what it was- and the unknown was something that drove him absolutely mad. His human was _right_ in front of him. Why wasn’t he returning the words? Was he impaired? Injured? Broken?

Whatever ‘it’ was- Chan could fix it. They could figure it out. _Together._

 **_Changbin._ ** **Come to me. You have to trust me.** **_Please._ ** He was effectively powerless without the consent of the only being in all the realms that could openly harness, feed, and draw from him. Now that he knew what it was like to have such a relationship- he couldn’t lose it. What was a King without his partner?

No response.

The blatant rejection hurt them both. 

It was pointless to avoid each other, really. They were too far gone- their souls too intertwined to ever be separated.

Felix and Hyunjin watched, wary, from the otherside of the room as Chan took on a form more corporeal than should’ve been possible. The mass of thick, dark energy gathered into a humanoid form and hovered just outside of where Changbin was curled tightly into himself. 

With the increased proximity, the human’s soul began crying out. It wanted nothing more than to be whole. To accept it’s shadow. But, the recent gruesome experiences in Changbin’s recent memory demanded priority.

Conflicting reactions clashed, causing the human to spout nonsense- high pitched whines, tumbling through languages that were not native to him. 

Languages that were believed to be lost a long time ago.

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m- I didn’t mean it to be this way. It’s all my fault. My fault. I did it. Me. Me. Me. My- All my fault._

The panic-struck pleas carried on long enough that Hyunjin was able to recover and take up a distant chant of his own. It was rare- that he was ever able reached a state so deep that he could access the words of his ancestors; with an opponent so blatantly chaotic, it was necessary. 

His words were directed towards Changbin solely- deep, flowing rhymes of poetry meant to soothe and calm. He had no idea if the older boy was capable of processing his words in his state, but that was the beauty of the old tongues. 

To those who spoke and those who understood, it was the intent of the words that matter. The closest thing in the world to magic, the old languages resonate deep within humans and shadows, alike, to evoke the most pure of emotions.

The King was far less eloquent:

**If you’re so sorry, then stop crying.**

Chan was, admittedly, unpracticed in the old tongues. Still, he managed to string together enough phonemes to immediately stop the cries of his human. The concise words struck a place within Changbin that was not under his conscious control. 

Consequently, the whines faded into strained breathing and the tears halted.

The exchange was lost on both Hyunjin and Felix- they weren’t around long enough to access _that old_ of a language. Stunned, they sat and listened to the words, which effectively pacifed both parties. 

That was the moment it set in- just how important Hyunjin and Felix’s actions had been in the flow of life.

They’d saved the human bound to the Shadow King.

A human that was _important_ to the Shadow King.

It took a few more minutes of garbled whispers from Chan, his tone soft and almost… _apologetic?_ , for Changbin to crawl out.

At the soonest possible opportunity, Chan sunk into his human- reclaiming and filling even the smallest of cracks; pleasing both of their souls with the much needed union.

Chan’s monstrous aura slowly became contained, Changbin regained color, and the other pair watched on in awe. 

The King didn’t need to ask what had happened. 

At first contact, he knew. Even the details that Changbin had repressed: the faces, the alley, the shadows, the ropes, and the buckets- all of it came to light.

Chan committed the identities to memory- promising to himself and his human that the actions that had taken place days ago would _not_ go unpunished. He would ensure suffering followed. 

But, for now, Changbin was his top priority. Chan couldn’t possibly give any fewer fucks towards any other being in the universe.

The human easily gave in. For the first time, the King had unrestricted control. Changbin didn’t fight him. Rather, for the first time since he’d been abandoned- 

No. He wasn’t abandoned. His shadow, forthright as ever, pushed memories to his thoughts. Chan hadn’t actively left him to be attacked. Though he was Changbin’s shadow- he’d gone to check in on his realm. Which, was definitely going to be an issue that they would have to address at a later time.

_Together. You don’t have to handle it alone._

**Big words for a human.**

_Your human, no?_

Chan didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Changbin could feel the strict attentiveness with which the King handled his body. How he took them home, slowly, with the utmost care; cautious of pushing Changbin’s body too far.

From then on, Changbin followed Chan’s demands as if they were his own ideas. 

However, instead of going to the gym to lift weights, Changbin took up martial arts classes. It was technically a class for ‘humans only’; though, sometimes, he let Chan have his fun and show off using his body. It kept them at the top of the class. Together.

When his human couldn’t sleep, Chan would siphon the restless energy away or tell him long-winded stories of the past. If the insomnia got really bad, Changbin would rely on the old languages to pull the human under. Thankfully those days were rare because Chan didn’t enjoy having to study words forgotten to most.

Food was the easiest compromise. Chan, despite being a shadow and not _actually_ needing human sustenance, absolutely _loved_ eating. Frequently letting Chan take over, of at least part of his consciousness, kept them bound tight. Their bond developed because of the cooperation, allowing for thoughts and emotions to flow readily between the two. 

It wasn’t the most comfortable of sensations: stepping back and allowing another being to control your body. Not being able to dictate every motion and word. 

In the beginning, it had been difficult unless Changbin was entirely exhausted- too tired to lift a single finger. Chan was quick to learn that complete control exchange didn’t work for them. Changbin _always_ had to be present; to understand and consent to what was happening with his body. 

Eventually, their mutual trust grew and it became as easy as a trust fall.


	3. [2] Warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning: there's degradation in this chapter. It's brief, but necessary for the sake of development.  
> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

**_SEUNGMIN- PAST_ **

Seungmin was sick.

Sick of everything.

Sick of being trapped. 

Sick of hiding. 

Sick of feeling the occasional twinges of emotions and thoughts not his own in the back of his mind.

Sick of being attached to- to a… _monster._

No other description fit Kim Woojin better.

Even the mere mention of the name made Seungmin wish for a death he would never achieve.

No, he was too precious. Too good. Too regrettably _useful_ to be let go.

And, anyway, Seungmin couldn’t leave _him_ behind. **Not again.** He swore not to. 

He’d already broken that promise once. **Never again.**

“Hyung, what are you thinking about?” An innocent, but leading question. 

Jeongin- ever perceptive Jeongin- damn well knew _exactly_ what kind of thoughts were occupying Seungmin’s mind. There’s no way he couldn’t- since he was no different. Through their experiences they grew to be freakishly similar- no words were needed to communicate between the pair. As if they were bonded; human and shadow bound for life rather than two unfortunate creatures of darkness.

Some days Seungmin wished that they were bonded.

Selfishly wished that he could rid himself of the residual emotions of his one, true human.

Selflessly he wished that their bond had been completely destroyed so that his human wouldn’t have to endure the never-ending torture that seemed to plague every moment of Seungmin’s existence. 

Together, they lingered on the top of the compound, energies masked in the darkness of the night. Above them, stars twinkled like far-off promises. 

A common daydream passes through Seungmin’s mind as he pushes down the self-hatred and fantasizes about what could be. In a different existence, Seungmin is human and Jeongin, powerful and kind, is his shadow. They belong to each other and work together flawlessly. They are never faced with horrific science experiments or being torn apart- 

_No._ He refuses to go down _that_ path. Instead, Seungmin forces himself to focus on the only bright, guiding hope he has: the sky. The shadow hopes that, if he thinks hard enough, _he_ will feel his sentiments through their shattered bond.

_We’re under the same sky. Together. I hope you always remember that._

It had been too long that they’d been apart. Yet, Seungmin could feel him- always present- a distant presence that is no more than the slightest of pressures. It’s feather light and slowly growing more faint. Seungmin’s scared. He’s been through so much that the enigma that sometimes tugs at the back of his mind seems like a falsity. A desperate creation born from his yearning. A way for his sadistic imagination to play sick games with him.

Jeongin, constantly reassures him that _he_ ’s still out there. Waiting. Possibly, a little upset and confused due to some misunderstandings- but waiting.

Seungmin, too lost in his own mind, doesn’t think to respond to the younger’s question until he’s gently nudged back to reality. He startles slightly and replies with the first thing that comes to his tongue: “the stars- they’re... really pretty tonight.”

It’s not what's eating at Seungmin and Jeongin knows it. But, he lets it slide, humming in agreement. “They are.”

The two have been together long enough that they know not to push each other.

Strangers at first, but closer now. Something so closely bound and perfect that there’s not a word that exists to describe it. Together, they endured and witnessed nauseating atrocities: torture; experiments; and, the ruthless dictating authority with which Kim Woojin has been using to bastardize life for both humans and shadows, alike.

Nothingness is their most comfortable form of existing in this realm. The state where nothing changes. Nothing progresses or hurts. Nothing is manipulated into grotesque, unnatural forms.

Silence is a close second. After the screams, thunderous bursts of unbound energy, and roars from the failures of human scientists- silence is sacred.

Seungmin can feel the younger shadow’s restlessness like it’s his own- the way that he can’t seem to settle in one place for too long. Jeongin had always been an entity of action, constantly concocting plans to preemptively handle issues. Sitting and waiting around for the next sickening demand was giving him too much time to think. And thinking, when you’ve been tethered to the world’s biggest monster, is not good. At all.

Suddenly, Seungmin feels a sharp pull. If he was human, he would’ve been knocked breathless, choking on air. It’s as if someone tied a barbed chain around his neck and yanked it without giving a single shit.

“He’s calling.”

“Of course he is.” the younger snarks with an audible eye roll, disgust saturating his words.

Though he doesn’t disagree with the sentiment, Seungmin is quick to remind Jeongin that such comments shouldn’t be made in such close proximity to the one they’re directed at: “not the time.”

The only response he receives is a hug- their energies briefly intertwining before returning to the monster’s side.

The room they end up is deep into the catacombs. The walls, lined with stone are all dark, wet, and dripping with sticky substances that are the product of the cumulative negative energy produced by the captives around this part. 

Though none of it can directly affect their non-corporeal existences, Seungmin and Jeongin make sure not to get close to the revolting surroundings.

As they go deeper, various sounds of misery grow louder. Cries in all sorts of languages and pitches mixed in with animalistic exclamations increase and urge them to move faster.

Neither of the shadows enjoy the madness. They don’t thrive in it like the monster does. But, they _have_ to be there. They’re the only ones that they trust to stick it out and change what happens when humans lose their places in the universe. 

It’s not an understatement to say that they’re on a mission to save two realms from destruction.

“Filth. Absolutely _fucking_ useless.” The monster brushes off his hands before straightening. His long, black coat hides does nothing to hide the absolute disgust in his posture.

At his feet are two conjoined cages. In one- the naked, shaking body of a human. The other- a shadow whose existence is so faint, it’s hard to tell if the space is occupied.

They’re custom- specially crafted to contain energies in a one way barrier. The boxes look basic to the bare eye, but the shadows can _see_. Witness how the faint darkness of the shadow is desperately pressed into a tight line against the barrier that separates them from the struggling human.

They’ve seen this before. Forced bonding. This pair isn’t the only one. They’re actually quite lucky to still be alive. Most die due to their souls being incompatible- or, that’s the theory behind the awful practices. 

**Master.** The title is automatic- burned into Seungmin’s mind from the endless punishments he’d gone through before giving in. He doesn’t even think twice before using the term, having already slipped into an apathetic head space the moment he and Jeongin left the rooftop.

The human doesn’t turn. The booming tenor of the monster’s voice causes the caged human- a male, seemingly a teenager- to jolt, whimpering into his arms that he has wrapped around his head.

“Had something better to do, did you? Think that you can go off and play house with your little bitch _boyfriend_ and ignore me? I’ll teach you a lesson. Teach you some fucking obedience.”

The threat doesn’t surprise Seungmin. Even if he’d been in the same room and come to the monster’s side immediately- it still wouldn’t have been fast enough. 

Nothing is never enough to satisfy Kim Woojin and he always makes sure to express his extreme displeasure any way he can.

The mocking acknowledgement of Seungmin and Jeongin’s relationship is new, however. After all the years that they’d been stuck carrying out orders for this monster- never, _never_ had he said such a thing _._ They'd been called many inaccurate, vulgar names- but never referred to as… _boyfriends._

Though the thought doesn’t repulse either of them- it does send a stark shock through their energies. The concept was entirely taboo- shadows falling in love. Even more so- shadows falling in love _together._

Such a concept was meaningless to them. As existences that live for eons, bound to various Earthly objects and trapped cycles of lives that they have no control over, something as whimsical as _love_ was always deemed pointless.

Seungmin constantly appreciates the relationship between him and the younger shadow- his closest confidant. But, he would never label it as something so... frivolous. 

He had never sought _that_ kind of connection in the other. Their pact to cooperate and take down a mutual enemy led to a wonderful partnership that they both benefited from- but, they weren’t _boyfriends._

There’s no point in apologizing to or correcting this monster- no words in the world mattered to him except his own.

So, when Kim Woojin does the _thing_ \- the awful, soul-twisting suctioning pull that he’s managed to harness- Seungmin just... takes it. He does his best to shield Jeongin, protect him from feeding this monster’s psychotic pleasures.

Kim Woojin can _feel_ the energy as it drains from Seungmin and flows into his body, their disgusting connection giving him the power to leave the shadow teetering on the edge of non-existence.

The non-consensual power transfer is awful- like acid being used to divide body from soul. It takes its time tearing him to shreds, knocking Seungmin to his spiritual knees as he begins to just… fade away.

Jeongin panics, as he always does, but Seungmin has enough strength to force him back with a well-placed mental shove. Despite his fading senses, he can see the younger’s dark mass move, grateful that he’s further away from the terrifying monster.

Kim Woojin is too caught up on the high he gets from absorbing power that isn’t his to notice that he is failing to drain _both_ of his second-in-commands. It’s obvious, as the human becomes increasingly delirious, that he has even forgotten the reason for calling Seungmin and Jeongin to him.

It’s the very moment that Seungmin feels that faint pressure intensify, that Kim Woojin stops. The shadow collapses to the ground, existence weak and barely-there. 

The times that the monster takes his little games _this_ far are rare. _Something must’ve happened._

The environment around Seungmin fades in and out of focus; the shadow struggles to find something to fixate on so he doesn’t just... fade away from the human realm. 

_The bond_. More than usual, it’s present. And _warm._ Like a fire in the middle of winter, it welcomes him. The difference between this connection that the faux one he shares with the monster is almost comical. _This one_ sings to him in his weakened state, instantly convinces him to continue existing- just so he can feel the harmonious soul of the being on the other realm. His heart aches.

Kim Woojin stumbles out of the room- cackling- completely lost in the haze of overwhelming power that his body is struggling to process. The instant that the heavy door slams in the monster’s wake, Jeongin is hovering all around the elder shadow. He’s fretting- more panicked than usual; but, rightfully so.

“Hyung. Hyung? _Seungminnie-hyung."_ The younger’s calls are relentless- strained and grating, Seungmin would usually say. Right now, however, they’re what helps him to remember why he _has_ to stay here. Continue living a tortured experience. Continue being separated from the _only_ one that he will _ever_ consider to be _his_ human.

As he focuses more on his immediate surroundings, the warmth fades and Seungmin is left emptier than he’s been in a long time. 

At least, Jeongin is still with him.

“I’m here.” It’s weak and whispered. He doesn’t know if he says it to Jeongin; or to reassure himself; or to call to the other end of his bond. Maybe, it’s all three. 

The younger sighs heavily and relaxes, frantic energy calming at Seungmin’s words.

As if he was a blanket- or, perhaps, a puppy dog waiting for it’s partner to heal- Jeongin lightly settles next to Seungmin. His presence is appreciated with a hum, the healthy energy that Jeongin’s so willing- but unable to share- is a beautiful spectacle that distracts Seungmin from the pain. There had always been _something_ about Jeongin’s physical manifestation that drew in the other. 

Unwilling to move, Seungmin allowed himself to remain transfixed on the shimmering mass of his companion while they waited for his energy to replenish. Really- it was as if the air _sparkled_ everywhere the younger’s energy touched.

The relatively peaceful moments of recovery are ruined by the whimpers coming from the cage. For the first time, they are truly able to take in the scene that they had burst in on.

Seungmin can only hear the human’s chanting- the endless, nearly nonsensical words that have streamed from him since the monster left. Seungmin’s not old enough. He doesn’t have the knowledge to know any more than the fact that the- scrawny, probably almost dead- human is speaking in an old tongue.

Jeongin, however, can hear both of them. Their words blend together, mixing to create a sorrowful duet of sadness, resolute hope, and- _love?_ He’s surprised that a human can speak in a language so ancient. The words are shaky, but coherently strung together as serve to supplement the effortless phrases of the shadow next to him.

The two onlookers simultaneously come to the same shocking conclusion: “ _they’re bonded?!”_ Their outbursts go unnoticed.

It makes Seungmin’s mind blanch. “ _No_...” He’s going to end this. End it fucking _now._ Not **Again.** He didn’t think the fucking monster was anywhere close to succeeding- he _can’t_ let it happen **Again.** Not **Again.** _Never_ ** _Again._** He and Jeongin had gone through too much shit making sure that this _didn’t_ happen just for their efforts to-

“What are they doing here? How did they get here? They can’t be here- we’re getting them out _. Now."_ Jeongin’s urgency rises with each question. His distress is palpable around Seungmin’s slowly gathering form.

His demeanor changes as a plan quickly forms in his head. 

No longer is he the frightened, young shadow who looks to his hyung for guidance.

_He is Prince Yang._


	4. [3] The Hag.

**_MINHO- PAST_ **

His life would be _so much_ more interesting if he didn’t have to feign interest in other people’s bullshit.

Really- Minho has _very_ little patience. Thus, anything to do with the lackadaisical environment of a retirement home was damn well near the top of his “Worst Nightmares” list. 

When they had figured out the location of their most promising lead so far, Minho scoffed. It was _his_ luck that some old woman was the most likely to hold the knowledge they were seeking. 

Just being near old people made him cringe. Everything about them: the smell, the wheezing, the “I’m old and wise” type of haughtiness. 

Minho hated it all. 

Prided himself on his active, fit lifestyle. Wanted nothing more than to avoid the woes of the sagging elderly. He had no time to listen to condescending stories of the past.

He’d just become an adult recently and yet, he’d experienced more in his brief lifetime than anyone could ever dream of. _They_ had. Him and Jisung. Though, he still had no comprehension of how old the shadow _really_ was- he clamped up every time the topic was brought up and a stern “ _Hyung. It's rude to ask.”_ was implored.

His current situation is unhelped by the shadow. In his ear, Jisung chatters away, endlessly throwing sarcasm out in reply to the debilitated niceties the current elder that sits across from them is spewing.

Of course, their informant couldn't just be a normal, good-doing citizen. This particular person was unique in that she had an unwavering strength radiating from within her frail body. Despite being blind, on breathing support, and in a wheelchair- she had an uncanny ability to sense Jisung. Without touching Minho. Didn’t have a distinct shadow of her own, either.

He’d never traded words with a witch before. Honestly, Minho made a constant effort to avoid them if they weren’t one of his client’s targets. He’d rather speak with bullets and fists. Less of a chance for one of them to get in his head.

Humans born without shadows were one thing; always weak and defenseless. Abominations- _witches_ \- were unsettling enigmas. The result of science or freaks of nature. Humans with the spirits of shadows. Half-breeds. Hybrids. Freaks. Mistakes.

Most of them had some sort of unnatural “power” that flowed from their shadow genes. But, human bodies weren’t meant to contain such energy. A short possession was unlikely to cause harm; but _constantly_ living with a foreign entity inside? It ate away at every witch- stole their life and humanity. Overtook, conquered, and commanded to be free.

He could see it this woman. The way the toll had already stolen her vision and was well on its way to claiming her motor functions.

Such shadows were instinct driven, empty-minded, and mere wisps of what they had once been. When released: the energy just dissipated back into the world. 

Like a drop of color losing itself in the ocean.

The moment that they stepped into the meeting room, she perked up. “Oh, what a beautiful boy.”

Minho, on-edge but confident in his control, smirked and brushed his hair back. “Why, thank you. You’re not too bad, yourself.” 

Pulling out the only empty chair, he flopped down, legs spread and ego on display.

The old hag’s clouded eyes seemed to roll as she pointed a shaking hand over Minho’s shoulder with a click of her tongue. “Not you. _Him._ ”

The words “there’s no one there” died on his tongue as she followed the statement with a thin giggle. The old lady, over the intermittent hisses of her oxygen tank, fucking _giggled_. 

“Hello there, little shadow. Beautiful energy. You’re the most mesmerizing I’ve ever seen.”

 _An insightful compliment coming from a blind woman._ He kept the sarcasm to himself, though Jisung was inevitably aware of a sharp pang distaste running across their connection.

It would’ve been endearing if Minho were the one to spew such shit. If she wasn’t eyeing the air over his shoulder like a predator, stalking its prey. The air grew cold as Minho waited for her to tear the breathing tube away and somehow harm his partner.

Completely ignoring the gravity of their situation, Jisung’s mental blush flowed through the bond as the shadow was knocked speechless. Obviously, the words struck the two of them in different ways.

Jisung.

_Speechless?_

Because of someone that wasn’t him?

Minho’s petty annoyance, though in-hand, flared. His arms crossed tightly, the only physical sign that he was affected by the cooing.

The human had a reputation to uphold. No way in hell would he ever lose face in front of some crippled old lady due to a little bit of misplaced flattery.

Jisung was _his_. Just as much as Minho was Jisung’s. For eternity.

He wanted to leave.

Get the fuck away from a hag who already knew too much about them. The repulsive smell of “old and dying” was burning his nose.

**Hyung. Be polite. She’s just an old lady.**

A witch was never ‘ _just’_ anything. They were a creation to be wary of. Snakes in disguise.

Minho’s cheek stung from where he bit it. 

He replied with a carelessly audible _hmpf_ , the sound undeniably carrying to the woman’s ears. 

She fucking _smirked._

Found the human’s mind to be predictably _feeble_. A new toy to play with because her environment had grown entirely too boring. Ignorant to his true personality, she had already determined him to be inferior. One jab and he was already reeling. 

**_Minho_** **.** Rarely did Jisung ever bother to interfere with how his human carried out a job. He knew Minho loved the control- survived on it, even. But, the woman could easily withhold information from them if Minho became crass. And then, they would _really_ be fucked.

They needed her mind. Regardless of foul and repulsive as Minho perceived it to be.

Her smirk opened into a smile too sinister for his liking. Without looking away from Jisung’s energy, she held a wrinkly hand out, palm down, and demanded: “take my hand.” 

There wasn't an alternative option available. Still, Minho ached to make one- even if it wasn’t the ethical way. Everyone in the world knew what power a physical gateway held. His stomach flipped at the thought of allowing her to walk through.

Minho hesitated a moment too long. Minho never hesitated. Always dove head-first into his own ideas, no matter how insane they were. He danced with his instincts; always spinning away just before rationality caught up with him. 

This freak was fucking with his entire mentality.

And he’d just sat down.

“Come on, now. I’ll be dead at this rate. I know what you want. I just want to talk. To both of you. No secrets here.”

 _What a fucking joke._ There was her first blatant lie. Secrets, in their line of work, made the world revolve. Without them- there’d be no leverage and no disparities. If he wasn’t so agitated, Minho would’ve laughed directly into her face.

Garnering every mental protection he could summon, Minho unwound his arms and placed the tips of his fingers against hers- the most minimal contact possible. 

The hag wasn’t having any part of his reluctance, however. Surging forward with surprising mobility, she grabbed ahold of his entire hand. Before he could jerk back, she sank her (much too sharp- _what the fuck did she do? File them into points??_ ) nails into his wrist and forced him to stay place. 

Awkwardly pulled halfway over the table, the cold surface dug into his waist. Tea that had been arranged for their “pleasant get together” tipped over. The earthy, brown liquid spread over the table and the sharp shattering of the cup resounded through the room. Echoed around Minho’s shocked mind. The only thing he could hear over the beating of his own heart and Jisung’s stunned but silent alarm.

The bitter scent blended with the woman’s near-death odor and Minho nearly lost the contents of his stomach. The mixture revived memories he had left to rest _long_ ago.

The rush of his shadow’s strong emotions clashed against his disorientation. The room was spinning, tilting in a way that only happened when he got _really_ trashed. If it kept going- he would lose himself in his own, tensely guarded head. 

Lose and be invaded by a witch. His Worst nightmare.

His head was a space for _them_ , only. Minho and Jisung’s personal space. Their lack of boundaries was born from traumatic experiences, but even today: he wouldn’t trade their bond for anything.

Which meant that the barely-consensual mental intrusion was _extremely_ abhorred. Three was most _certainly_ not a party he wanted to be a guest of. Ever.

He froze, the woman’s cold and clammy hand only tightening further around his wrist. It felt like a snake that hand tried to swallow his arm, poisonous fangs sunk in and unable to be removed. Minho’s body froze over, panic overtaking his ability to focus. All the warmth was being sapped into the snakes body, as if she were stealing his life force slowly- weakening him further with each passing second.

He’d been through it before- the hands. The pokes. The prods. The sneers and sleazy comments. The feeling of liquids, hot and cold, being pushed through his body. Back then, too, he’d been lost. Drowned in the sensations around him. 

All of it had been with Jisung by his side. His personal witness for all the filth. Jisung had been at his hip through it all. _Jisung-_ his shining light. The only one who could pull him out of the seas of mania. _His_ Jisung.

The younger forced open a private pathway to Minho with haste. **Minho- you’ve got to breathe. Pull yourself together. Stop thinking about it. We’re not there. Ask the questions so we can leave.** Simple commands that, even in his increasingly ragged state, Minho could follow.

Breathe. Don’t think. Ask questions.

Basic instructions.

Jisung, in a soft but urgent whisper, guided Minho away from his overwhelming thoughts. **I’m here, Hyung. Breathe.** His shadow didn’t need to breathe. Still, slow pulses drifted to Minho- like calm tides rolling in and out. It worked flawlessly, without conscious effort from the human. **There you go. You’re fine.** **_We’re fine._ **

Though he was far from panicking now, the intruding presence of the woman still weighed heavily on his level of comfort. Her mind was a spider looming over him, its web cast a long time ago.

“You’re a special one, aren’t you?” Unmoving, her empty eyes were pointedly focused over his shoulder. There was no reason for her to speak aloud- they could both hear the echo of her words through their minds as she communicated.

Thankfully- she was guarded, as well. Didn’t immediately force her memories onto Minho and didn’t steal his away. Not that he and Jisung couldn’t block her; though, it would be difficult given the human’s shaken state of mind. It sickened them to think that she had gained the upper hand within minutes.

For whatever reason, their client had sent them into the path of this woman to suck out any and all information she had before she was claimed by justice.

Watching the black aura seeping around the shriveled informant, Jisung wanted to gag. It wasn’t the flowing, translucent embodiment of a natural shadow; instead, a thick and noxious mass that bubbled and latched onto any potential source of energy to sustain it’s dying host with.

He couldn’t tell Minho. Couldn't’ tell him that the moment the woman made contact with his skin, black tentacles began wrapping around his body to feed off his energy. 

Yet, it was obvious that the human was extremely unsettled. Unbearably so. Massive waves of sorrow and hatred were rolling off of him, barely contained by the additional barrier that Jisung built against the woman’s prying mind.

She would only see what he wanted her to. Even if Minho was in a state unreachable, Jisung wouldn’t let everything they had become be ruined by a freak of nature. Jisung wouldn’t allow his human to be irrevocably harmed. 

Never again.

They had to hurry. Though he and Minho were naturally strong, and Jisung would be able to fend off any possible advancements; that didn’t mean he liked some leech that was already on death’s doorstep feeding off of his precious human’s beautiful aura.

Normally, the shadow was desensitized to the light pink that always clung tight to Minho’s body. The slow transfer was driving him mad. _His_ human. _Their_ energy. 

It was too beautiful to be taken by a monster.

**Ask the questions.**

The interrogation didn’t go as well as either had planned for. 

Minho managed, within a stunningly short span of twenty minutes to get just enough information out of the hag that they could carry on- _somewhere else-_ with their investigation.

With a blunt conclusion, Minho all but threw himself out of the room; entirely uncaring that he was being incredibly impolite. He wanted to get them _out._

The long lines down his hand where the claws had shredded his skin gave him no reason to bow and extend a formal “thank you for your time”. If anything, he wanted to tell the witch that she could keep her filthy corruption _far the fuck away_ from them. 

His silence was far more personable than any venom that was waiting to fall from his mouth.

Rushing through the building, he did his best to maintain his composure as to not disturb residents or staff members. But, it was _hard._ What little self control he’d mustered throughout the questioning was slipping away from him faster than he would ever admit. 

He hated the frozen tendrils that wrapped around his body at her touch. Hated his very own mind for conjuring _and maintaining_ such a painful sensation. Hated the rasp in her voice and the pump of the oxygen tank. Hated that, even in such a debilitated state, she made him want to turn tail and run. 

_Him._ Lee Minho, who spied, theived, and killed without any passing care. The man who could slink around the alleyways of deep Seoul, blindfolded, and never once lose to trouble. The one whose morals were always- at least- slightly questionable to outsiders.

Strong Lee Minho was running away.

With his breathing under strict control, thanks to Jisung’s continuous monitoring: Minho let the information seep through his thoughts. Vaguely aware of his surroundings as he stormed through the neighborhood, body on auto-pilot, he mulled through the copious twisted statements and red herrings.

The witch, despite acknowledging Minho’s presence, had openly refused to talk to him.

Wouldn’t even blink at any of his words- soft _or_ loud. Jisung was the only one she would communicate with. The odd behavior resulted in Minho vocally telling Jisung what to say (just because he _could;_ and, perhaps, the sound of his own voice in the unsettling environment was mildly comforting. Something familiar.) and the question was immediately parroted to the woman.

The one way train was a tedious trifle. 

The entire time had felt ridiculous. 

He hated being undermined.

 **Whatever gets us out of here fastest.** Is what Jisung had said with a heavy sigh in response to Minho’s first few attempts at personally extracting information. Their compliance with her game created a sickening smile that overtook the hag’s whole face- revealing a set of nearly rotted dentures. 

Minho was almost glad she didn’t have to speak because he could definitely feel every one of her exhales on his forearm and _did not_ want to experience smelling her breath, too.

The whiteness of her eyes stayed locked on Jisung’s form, even when he had floated to Minho’s other shoulder to avoid the eerie gaze.

They’d been through questioning sessions before where the person kept their head down- refused to look up. Others where people had been blindfolded. _None_ of them had involved Jisung. This was Minho’s realm- Minho’s _game_ to play. He set the rules. No one else.

Until the witch came along.

As the human, Minho was used to being their representative in everyday life. Being silenced in the world that was _his_ to command? _Ridiculous._

In hindsight, he loathed how she got into his mind. _Literally_.

_Never agai-_

**Minho.**

The tentative call, soft and unassertive, coaxed him out of his thoughts. They were out; sunlight blinding and fresh air blowing. Being outside always worked wonders after intense sessions. And the strength of the sun was so present, willingly giving, that the pair paused to soak in the holistic healing. 

The coldness faded away. Jisung’s presence, his pressure soothing, settled around Minho in a way only his favorite blanket could ever rival.

Following a set routine, Minho scanned his surroundings as he fixed his clothing. Face mask donned and bucket hat pulled down, he casually stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and resumed walking down the suburban street.

The area was quaint. Not too far from the bustling of the city- but still peaceful enough that haggy old people were able to find solace. In a different life, it might have even been Minho’s ideal living area: a slow-paced neighborhood associated with limited worries.

However, that would _never_ be him. Not them. Not in this era.

Right now, he would rather be roaming the streets with a burning purpose and Jisung by his side; rather than worrying about whether his petunias would blossom.

 **Hey-** Jisung’s voice brought him back, again- **you need to sit down before you pass out. There’s a park up ahead.**

Minho didn’t feel any different than he expected to. Though, the compelling instinct to get away from whatever the hell just happened was still very much present. The sunshine had begun to purify and regenerate his body- but it couldn’t do the same for the turmoil plaguing his mind.

Yet, he knew better than to argue with his shadow.

Jisung had _always_ been more sensitive to the world and Minho, himself.

Flopping onto a bench, dressed as he was and carrying frustration around like a knife: various park goers gave him a side-eye before subtly shuffling their kids away. 

The occurrence wasn’t anything new. 

Hiding away in plain sight was a common tactic of his. Too often, his disdainful aura created an innate need in others to stay far the fuck away from Lee Minho. And he was perfectly fine with that. Hated interacting with those who weren’t a part of his games. Didn’t know how to treat the innocent. So, he just- didn’t bother with them.

The warmth radiating from the bench had him groaning, long and low.

Jisung had been right- as always. 

The exhaustion caught up with him in a horrifyingly sudden rush that dulled the world. Hazy and wobbly, once again, Minho shut his eyes tight before nausea had a chance to build.

After a short session, he’d usually be overflowing with energy. Free the stress of asking the right questions, Minho thrived in having a wealth of information at his fingertips to decipher. Prided himself on his abilities, even.

But, _this?_ This was new.

In the midst of a place he’d never been in before: Minho was at a loss.

It was hard enough for him to process that something was wrong with him, let alone, the cryptic answers that the hag gave. The words were muddled and twisting together. Everything was slipping through his fingers. Answers became questions and questions ended with periods. 

All he could do was watch.

Jisung was silent, save for the subtle pulses. Pulling away to give his human space to relax, he settled into the empty half of the bench. 

The lack of words didn’t fool Minho. Through his mental clouds, he could tell there was a nervous energy, overflowing from the shadow; like a balloon on the edge of bursting.

Though he didn’t have the will to move a muscle for his own needs, his concern for Jisung would always trump everything else.

 _What._ Speaking aloud took too much energy. And, it increased the chances of being overheard.

The shadow all but jumped- the faint wispiness scattering in a burst before quickly recollecting. 

Jisung didn’t get scared. Not like this. Not of Minho. What had happened so suddenly? They swore to have open communication- something that was difficult to avoid, anyway, when their minds were linked so closely.

The silence hurt Minho, a stark pain that was both unfamiliar and unwelcome. Body too full and simultaneously too empty, the new feeling sat at the forefront of his attention. A massive, gaping hole, it nagged at his soul.

 _Jisung._ His shadow. Partner in both life and work. 

He wouldn’t demand that the other’s thoughts be shared; but, he also knew that, sometimes, hard things take a _little_ coaxing to reveal. 

If Jisung wanted to present himself, Minho would accept him with open arms- just as he always did.

The breeze of midday was light across his skin, ruffling what little hair was poking out under the brim of his hat. 

In the distance, the joyous shouts of children echoed around the playground. 

A stark yearning to, one day, take Jisung to a park and play with him struck Minho. To push him on the swings and have the chains not just pass through the energy. To chase the younger- who was _definitely_ smaller and infinitely more lithe- until one of them ran out of breath. To picnic under a tree and share little sandwiches and maybe some wine, too.

He wanted to laugh. To joke. And to love more. 

It must be the drowsiness that was making him so sappy, openly daydreaming without shielding his thoughts. It was rare that he ever got so lost.

An amused, but tired laugh echoed through his head, disrupting all dreams and catching his attention like the beam from a lighthouse. He latched onto it, savored the genuine quality of it, even if he wished it was born from pure happiness, instead.

 **If you want to take me out, you could just say so.** The bravado was heard, but the embarrassed blush was felt. 

Minho raised a lazy eyebrow. What happened to his precious, timid shadow? _I’d rather take you to bed, sweetness._ If Jisung was corporeal, the small boy would’ve been laughing brightly behind a hand, eyes shining and cheeks brightly flushed at the sound of Minho’s silky (and totally sleazy) tone. _Away from prying eyes. Just the two of us?_ The human let out a wanton sigh. 

Before the communication could lull, again, Minho sobered. _Seriously though,_ the giggles died, _I feel like shit. We need to get back._

Whatever Jisung was withholding could wait until he was ready to share. Minho just _really_ wanted his bed. And a few beers. And a box of chicken.

Without missing a beat, the shadow flourished- his energy spiking- fueled by inward satisfaction. **I think** **_I’ll_ ** **be the one taking that fabulous body of yours to bed, hmm?** Turning the human’s words around, manipulating and returning them, was one of Jisung’s favorite past times.

But, despite the veiled humor, Jisung was right. Again.

If they waited for Minho to recover on his own- without supplemental nutrients or sleep- they’d probably be stuck in the park until dawn. No doubt, they’d be chased away by the local watch long before that time came near.

Minho didn’t bother replying to his shadow’s playfulness. He knew it was an act to break through the tension the previous events had left lingering between them.

Stepping back and allowing Jisung to take the reigns was equivalent to a sigh of relief. The human let go. Didn’t even try to maintain partial consciousness. Jisung would, without doubt, take care of him.

**That’s right. I’ve got you.**


	5. [4] Pizza for One.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true shock has appeared!:
> 
> The actual plot reveal.  
> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

**_CHAN/ CHANGBIN_ **

A couple weeks after the incident, Chan reluctantly guided Changbin back to the warehouse. The shadow wanted nothing more than to forget the memories associated with the building- to never come in contact again with the pair- but Changbin was right: they were indebted.

For saving his human when he hadn’t been there, Chan owed them. And he certainly wasn’t about to let Changbin walk anywhere alone. Particularly, an impoverished area near the site of the attack.

They hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms; not a single word of thanks had been exchanged. After exploding in a flurry of an aggressive, ancient language, Chan had taken Changbin’s body and brought his human home. 

The younger had been drowning in utter embarrassment whilst the Shadow King didn’t have a single spec of remorse towards the situation. Resolution was a must for Changbin. Patchy memories of his recovery constantly ate at his consciousness, coming paired with flashes of the constant care that Hyunjin and Felix had provided. How could he possibly be rude to his saviors?

It was bad enough that he’d waited until he was back to health- at least, physically- before even attempting to contact the pair.

So, together they stood outside of a seemingly abandoned warehouse- in what turned out to be the  _ fishing  _ district, of all places. Changbin was meekly trying to convince himself that everything would be okay. Chan would reel in his unfounded hatred for Felix; and, Changbin would manage to have a civil conversation with strangers that meant the world to him. Having a connection to a being that wasn’t Chan was a new sensation that rocked his core.

How would they react? If it was Changbin opening the door, he’d probably just stare, dumbfounded, and slam the door. Why would he want to concern himself with a pair that radiated  _ danger! trouble! power!  _

Outside the steel door was a weak, stuttering light. Similar bulbs were installed in all sockets down the street, casting ominous puddles of blinking red over the area. The faint rays were common in neighborhoods- particularly in places of low strength. At night, if there were any visitors to the dwelling, the lack of light served to limit the power of any guests. Overall, the objective had been to reduce crime- not that it had been all that successful. Some shadows had the ability to draw their power from other sources, causing the red lights to highlight areas of easy prey.

Changbin, egged on by Chan’s growing frustration (which was certainly sympathetic of the human’s rampant anxiety), knocked on the door. Three solid, echoing hits.

After a moment of tense silence, shuffling- so quiet that it was nearly drowned out by the ferocious beating of the human’s heart- preceded a rusted grate being slid open.

“What do you want?” The voice was gruff, undeniably a manipulation of Hyunjin’s own. Despite his efforts, the natural bouncing tone pulled a relieved sigh out of Changbin.

_ We found it. _

**Did you doubt me?** Changbin left the unveiled taunting. They’d finally made it.

“To talk.” Really, over the weeks, Changbin had accumulated numerous questions- but asking was… a difficult matter. Though he was literally standing on their doorstep, Changbin still doubted whether he’d be able to pull his head out of the inevitable anxiety of being with another human.

Chan was shifting around his body in a threatening cloak of restless, unappeasable energy. To normal people, Changbin probably looked like a hazy shadow.

“It’s...  _ you? _ ” Blatant surprise returned Hyunjin’s voice to its usual state. Swiftly, he closed the grate and jerked the heavy door open. Changbin’s small body was manhandled into the room before either of the pair could react. Thankfully, Hyunjin pulled away the exact moment Chan’s protective fierceness caught up and the shadow’s power spiked.

At the same instant, a bright aura flared around Hyunjin, a yellow so blinding it was practically white. Hyunjin’s eyes glowed with the same color, a sight that frightened Changbin- but certainly not Chan.

Hyunjin’s mouth moved. The voice that came out was octaves lower than the original with an accent unrecognizable even to Changbin’s vast archives of knowledge: “you dare act so rude in a place that is not yours?”

In the back of his mind, Changbin felt Chan’s presence increase further. He was furious. Chan had already been annoyed thanks to Changbin’s stubborn request, but  _ this?  _ Shadows would know their place. Chan was  _ The  _ Shadow King. His realm’s one and only reigning monarch. How  _ dare  _ Felix question his actions. 

The pathetic being that was only titled a shadow due to humanity’s stupidity.

Changbin stepped aside, mentally. Trying to resist his shadow when his temper flared was a waste of energy. As expected, Chan was there immediately, itching to take the controls.  _ Don’t hurt them. _

Chan scoffed-  _ out loud. _ Still present, Changbin felt his face contort into a sick sort-of smirk.

“This location is not  _ yours _ , either.” Hearing Chan’s voice coming out of  _ his _ mouth was always disconcerting. The condescension was undeniable in the stern baritone. 

“This is our dwelling. You are a guest, Sir.”

_ At least he’s being polite. _

**Shut up, Changbin. You don’t know what we’re dealing with.**

_ Care to share? _

**No.**

_ Fine. Be that way. Carry on, Mr. Scary Dictator.  _

Once again, Chan didn’t bother responding directly; instead, Changbin’s body suddenly crossed its arms with a strong eye roll.

“You know who I am.” A statement directed at the other two; though it made Changbin chuckle. Sometimes, it was nice to step back from a situation swathed in tension. To still be present, but not in charge of acting nor reacting. His shadow would always protect him, regardless of who held his body- Changbin believed that unwaveringly. Still, the brief reprieve was mentally-restoring. 

“I do.” The glow was slowly fading from the air and Hyunjin’s eyes; yet, the voice remained strong. “And I know that your presence here is unwelcome. With all due respect: please leave.”

“I don’t want to be here at all.- but, if you didn’t manage to hear: my human insists on talking to your… charge.”

It was rare that Chan ever graced beings outside of his own realm; and, even more rare that the king declares his claim (albeit, obvious) aloud. Much to the human’s embarrassment and Chan’s annoyance: Changbin’s flattered flush reached the surface and turned the boy’s ears a bright red.

In an attempt to move past the flare of indignation he felt aimed directly at his own consciousness, Changbin fumbled to understand the situation:  _ What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?  _

The calming break he’d been so nicely gifted was undeniably coming to an end. With each second more they spent in the warehouse, Chan was getting more antsy; the shadow was just  _ itching _ to destroy  _ something _ . The human knew far better than to stand in, or instigate, the blast.

**Ask the human, yourself,** Chan snapped, as he abruptly stepped back and thrust Changbin back into his own body. The rapid switching was disconcerting; though, the younger did his best to repress the resulting nausea. If they were going to leave any time soon, Changbin needed to get his shit together.

Hyunjin returned moments later, only to collapse to the ground, gasping for air. Changbin had been through awful transitions, too, but Hyunjin seemed to be taking this one pretty badly.

Already wrapped back around Changbin’s body, Chan scoffed at the sight. The radius of the King’s energy jumped exponentially, as if he were (pettily) enforcing the large difference between their pairings.

Felix was nowhere to be seen.

Rushing forward on instinct, ignoring the way that his vision tilted back and forth, Changbin dropped onto his knees at the fallen boy’s side. Pain radiated through his body, the concrete did absolutely nothing to pad the landing. “Are you okay?”

“Y- yeah. Give me a- a minute. I’ll be fine.” Not knowing what would help the other, Changbin merely watched as Hyunjin ran his hands over his body; seemingly confirming that everything was still intact. 

Placing a hand lightly on Hyunjin’s shoulder, Changbin realized the change had taken far more of the boy’s energy than he figured it would’ve. It was a common issue he’d had with Chan in their early days of hesitant cooperation; the balance of being co-conscious was a fickle one. One time in particular came to his attention: a morning Chan had stayed up front far too long and Changbin had woken up, in boxers only, sprawled out on the cold floor of his kitchen. The King, rightfully sheepish, had later revealed that he wanted to ‘familiarize himself with the experience of eating pizza’. That day had been the start of Chan helping Changbin through his mealtimes. 

Changbin rubbed his temples with a sigh, feeling Chan’s reminiscent, unabashed love of food drift through their connection.  _ Not the right time. We should get take-out after this.  _ Chan’s energy shimmered, a response that could only be brought about by the mention of human food.

Small tremors of exhaustion shook Hyunjin’s body. Without sparing a thought towards how odd it was that he was excessively familiar with the room, Changbin pushed himself up and walked over to the lone bed. As he had expected, there was a single blanket on top.

Changbin walked back to the boy and proceeded to bundle him up in a loose cocoon. If he were Hyunjin, he wouldn’t want to be left alone to freeze on the floor. Particularly, not in front of an almost-stranger.

Eventually, the boy straightened and looked at Changbin with a strained, sheepish smile. His eyes were glossy- still, not all the way present in the moment- and a light sheen of sweat covered Hyunjin’s forehead. “You were saying?” Changbin balked. The boy was in no shape to be distracted by a conversation so trivial as a thank you. He needed food and a good nap.

The flannel pajama set the other wore distracted Changbin- even under the cover, it  _ hung _ off of the other’s shoulders in a way that was incredibly... unsettling. Changbin reached out, slowly as to not startle the boy, and pulled the fabric up. He went as far as to close the two buttons which were creating the issue.

Though Changbin did his best to avoid touching Hyunjin directly, his hand slipped and the back of one of his knuckles brushed against the boy’s collar bone. 

The contact was a mistake. 

Hurry up, would you? The deep voice in his head was new. Changbin had never heard anyone but Chan before. He always avoided people; wore long layers; and, made a point to keep an impenetrable bubble around his body (which wasn’t difficult thanks to Chan’s constant, murderous aura). It made him freeze, wide-eyed. 

Hyunjin had evidently heard the same voice, given the way he shuddered in response.

The anger was blatant, but there was an unmistakable weakness about the tone that had Changbin yearning to  _ fix  _ the situation. He’d always been good at picking up clues other people always missed. It made small talk at the library excessively easy for him- though, some people were driven away by the ‘weird short guy who read them like an open book’. 

The accent was familiar. Newly familiar.

A faint, glowing light was gathered in a nearby corner of the warehouse. Not attempting to come closer- no. The presence probably couldn’t do more than communicate through words, currently.

_ Felix…? Is that you?  _ It felt like a dumb question. He didn’t even know if it would reach the… light-shadow. Changbin didn’t know any other way to handle the heavy atmosphere. It was the first thing that came to his head. 

The possibility of a foreign entity reading his thoughts in addition to having unfiltered access to his emotions and memories downright  _ frightened  _ Changbin. Allowing Chan in was a concept that still irked him from time to time. Thankfully, the King didn’t care about his personal on-goings- outside of their agreed conditions. If anything, Chan made it known that he wanted nothing more than to shut out Changbin’s constant inner monologues.

Unbothered by the intrusion, Chan’s words were surprisingly reassuring:  **He cannot know you as I do. He is not us.** The unwavering certainty that Chan was projected helped to quell some of Changbin’s worry, but not all.

Doing his best to project the thoughts down a path to his shadow, nowhere near the intruder, Changbin asked:  _ what do you mean? _

**Ask. It’s not my story to tell.**

I said: hurry up.

Hyunjin’s head jerked around, panickingly searching the room. “ _ Felix. _ What are you  _ doing? Shut up.  _ You  _ idiot.”  _

_ He can’t sense Felix? _ It took the other human a few confused seconds before he located the ball of light energy. Changbin’s mind spun with questions and theories. The only time that he’d been unable to feel Chan had been… that awful period he’d spent in the warehouse with Hyunjin and Felix.  _ Is there something that’s weird about this pla- _ his thought’s cut, mid-sentence. Chan’s energy, composed and authoritative, was all around him. There had been no change in their bond after crossing into the premises. It had to be something between Hyunjin and Felix. 

Tentative and insatiably curious, Changbin reached out. Speaking with both his mind and his mouth he said, “ _ Felix? Is that you?”  _ His hand had flattened, palm flat against the crook of Hyunjin’s cold neck, as he sought to confirm the new connection to the shadow.

During the time he’d spent with the pair, Changbin always vaguely sensed the energy that Hyunjin carried with him. He never thought it was weird- the times that Felix actually spoke to him were slim and intermittent. Now that he was fully aware, Changbin wanted answers.

The sound of utter defeat was followed by Hyunjin falling forward, towards the concrete. Startled, Changbin jumped to catch the boy. The thin blanket served to pad their landing slightly. Changbin managed to catch Hyunjin by the collar of his shirt; easily pulling the body into his arms.

Nearby, Chan sighed with a click of his tongue- condescending disappointment evident.

That’s what you get for not listening to me, _idiot._ Contrasting the earlier harshness, Felix’s voice wobbled with worry. The light energy had rushed forward as Hyunjin passed out, hovering close without actually 

Changbin lifted Hyunjin without being prompted and moved the gangly human to the mattress. The boy was scarily light, despite his larger stature.

**We should return. It’s getting late. Let the human deal with the fool by himself.**

_ Hyunjin’s unconscious, if you haven’t noticed. He can’t deal with anything by himself, right now. _

**That isn’t our problem.**

In response, Changbin tucked the blanket tighter against Hyunjin’s freezing body. The warehouse was obviously not their permanent housing- only minimal necessities were present and there certainly wasn’t any heating system to fend off Seoul’s cold nights.

His empathy was raging, not allowing Changbin to leave Hyunjin alone after he’d experienced so many terrifying things in the past and always wished for the care of another. Plus- it was Hyunjin and Felix who had taken care of Changbin at his worst.  _ Hyunjin _ who had sacrificed and risked his life for a pathetic stranger. That was the whole reason he and Chan were there, after all- to express their gratitude and repay their debt.

And to fuel his curiosity further, Chan was blatantly avoiding telling him  _ something _ . Something big that Changbin was itching to know.

Figuring that it’d take a while to get through to the stubborn spirits, Changbin sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand lightly over Hyunjin’s forehead. He was still sweating; even though his shivers were practically shaking the bed.  _ Felix? Why is Hyunjin like this? _

That’s none of your business. Leave.

Unwilling to yield to the demands of a mere not- _ shadow _ \- maybe, Chan was beginning to influence him- Changbin persisted.

_ But he isn’t fine  _ now.  _ I want to know why. So, tell me.  _ He put energy behind the order- more than he had in a long while. It was rare for Changbin’s domineering nature to come out; usually it was just Chan barking demands at entities with less power. But, in the end, they were paired together for a reason.

Felix’s presence stopped anxiously wafting around and gathered near the other side of Hyunjin’s body. The energy was bright, again; starkly different from any shadow Changbin had ever seen. 

In fact, Changbin had never encountered a singular presence so…  _ non-threatening _ . Normally, shadows fed off of more negative emotions and power. Felix radiated warmth- a conglomeration of feelings similar to eating a good meal or sleeping in. 

Sure, the crackling light was imposing and strong after recovering. But, it certainly wasn’t aggressive; an exact contrast to Chan’s overwhelming darkness.

Against his will, Felix expounded:  I. Have. Chosen. This. Human. There was still an unspoken  _ something _ in the air that created a residual echo of emotion in the words: “I will protect him whether the Shadow Realm allows it or not”. 

Changbin was so curious that it almost hurt.

Hyunjin whined in his sleep, rolling away to face towards Felix’s energy. It was understandable. The male entity projected warmth, security, and an undeniable sense of comfort; the textbook definition of fortunate charisma.

Chan maintained his silence. His presence rested around Changbin, wrapped tightly- like a weightless set of armor. It was empowering; feeling the constant, reassuring source of power that would never steer him wrong. He wondered how Hyunjin had come to be qualified as Felix’s human. Whether Changbin ever admitted it, or not: he and Chan- minus the royal title- resonated incredibly well together.

Refocusing, he an eyebrow in the light’s direction.  _ And? So what- _

Felix interrupted, hissing, the sound similar to that of a scared kitten.  Leave.

Of course, Chan was in agreement with the demands, lowly grumbling in the back of Changbin’s mind about how nice a warm shower and a big meal would be. 

The human wasn’t swayed. Shadows can’t feel differences in temperature.

_ I’m not leaving Hyunjin. I owe it to him- to both of you- to make sure he’s okay. _

The light’s hostility flickered at Changbin’s unwavering resolve. He wished that Felix could understand his intent- how he only wanted to ensure the other human’s safety. Just as they’d done for him.

Felix didn’t argue, staying by his human in new-founded silence.

With finality, Changbin leaned back against the bed’s rickety headboard. The bed was only a twin, so the two humans barely fit together- but he made it work. 

In the large warehouse, the bed was placed directly in the center. The emptiness was disconcerting for the boy who was used to his quaint apartment and it’s over-packed hominess.

What he could see of the dark area was overly spacious: a large desk covered by a multitude of monitors; a fridge that was both crooked and dented; a few scattered trunks against the walls- one of which was laying open to reveal an overflowing, messy pile of clothing.

For some reason, Changbin’s heart ached.  _ What are they doing out here, all alone?  _ Hyunjin seemed like he was around the same age as Changbin. And Felix- with his immature, obstinate words- probably wasn’t far off, either.

He didn’t expect Chan to answer, or even acknowledge the question. Though the King wasn’t pushing for control, Changbin could feel his shadow settle into the depths of his body. It was as close to sleeping that Chan ever got- essentially just a way of saying “I’m here- but don’t bother me unless you’re about to die.” The feeling of wholeness settled in tandem; their two spirits united, once again.

He ran his hand through Hyunjin’s hair, hoping to convey the calmness he was experiencing. The heat coming from Changbin wasn’t much- but Hyunjin still nuzzled into his palm. The boy’s pained expression faded as serenity replaced the negativity. Through their small bond, Changbin felt Hyunjin slip further into unconsciousness, his body accepting its safe environment at last.

Felix settled at the end of the bed like a puddle, reflective and unmoving.

Help him. Please. The request was so quiet that Changbin almost missed it in the near-deafening silence of the warehouse. Again, there was a residual ring of unsaid thoughts: “do what I can’t do for him.”

_ Of course. _ He would’ve preferred Hyunjin’s consent; however, given the situation: Changbin acted directly following Felix’s request.

Slipping underneath the covers, Changbin wrapped himself around the taller. Hooking an arm and a leg over Hyunjin’s body, he pulled the boy in tight. It was like cuddling a squishy icicle. At least, Felix’s energy kept their feet warm.

Without even realizing it, the two boys slept through the night- leaving the other two plenty of time to talk:

**What do you think you’re doing? I haven’t seen one of your kind in a long time.**

It doesn’t matter- why I’m here.

**I didn’t ask ‘why’- I want to know** **_what_ ** **you’re doing attached to this boy. He’s not yours.**

That’s not your business.

**It became my business the moment my human became involved.**

So big, bad King Chan has sunk so low that he cares about a human, now?

**He is mine as I am his- that has never changed. No matter which cycle.**

After a couple of hours of silence, the conversation picked up, again.

I found Hyunjin, one day, after he’d saved a kid from shadow. His bond...was nearly ruined. But that part that  _ was _ there was so bright- he attracted so many shadows… I don’t know how he survived.

**So you just latched on like a leech. Half-assedly protected him to fool yourself into thinking that he needs you to survive.**

I-

**You feed off of it. His energy. You’re a** **_parasite._ ** **Without being bonded, the relationship isn’t mutual. You-**

Shut up! You don’t know  _ anything. _

**Did you forget who you are talking to?** **_Ignorant, spoiled brat._ **

Chan ended the talk, not in the mood to listen to the whining of some pathetic freeloader.

When Changbin awoke, Hyunjin was gone.

Chan was still hanging around, floating from one corner to another- inspecting the warehouse.

**You’re awake.**

_ G’morning. _

**It’s two in the afternoon.**

_ Good. Morning. Chan. _

The shadow huffed, resuming his actions without another comment.

Sometime later, after falling in and out of unconsciousness, Changbin gathered himself and sat up. Running a hand through his hair, he found the warehouse was empty.

_ Where’s Hyunjin? _

**Do you think I’m your personal hound dog?** Him? A  _ king? _

_ You found him quickly before, _ Changbin shrugged, unphased by the King’s condescension.

**I did.** Flattery works wonders for royalty- shadow or otherwise.  **He’s currently working.**

_ Did he say when they’d be back? _

**I have no intention of talking to that…** **_thing_ ** **longer than necessary. No. I don’t know.**

Changbin felt a bit lost. Unlike Chan, he had reservations about nosing through other’s personal things- even if he was bored out of his mind.

There  _ really  _ was no reason for them to stick around further- Changbin seemed to always bring trouble into the pair’s lives- except the insatiable interest that was tied to Felix’s existence.

Plus, he hadn’t gotten the chance to thank them for saving his life.

Chan was withholding secrets in regards Felix and his attachment to the equally energetic human. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, either. 

While there was definitely some sort of bond between the two, it didn’t feel perfectly synergistic. To Changbin, the two-  _ separate- _ beings were dissonant. If they had been two notes: the similar, yet unharmonious tones would have made him cringe.

**Don’t concern yourself with them. Focus on our goal.** Always the tunnel vision.

_ Always the goal. _

Changbin’s body felt heavy with the reminder.

It was ‘theirs’ because it was the  _ one  _ future path they had managed to agree on.

He didn’t want to face the staggering pressure of potential failure.

After months of arguing.

The King scoffed, tired of the human’s doubt.

The only reason that they were currently cooperating. 

Chan would never let them fail. 

An end goal that would create peace for all.

They were  _ destined _ for this. For success. Together.

To save both realms from self-destruction.

Too many shadows had been going rogue, lately. Too many were walking in the human world without the repercussions of being attached. Too many humans were foolishly attempting to harness the powers of the shadow world. 

According to Chan and his- surprisingly loyal- informants: there was only one human who had  _ actually  _ managed to force a bond with multiple shadows. Unwilling shadows. Shadows that had been bound to others, previously. 

The rift and unnatural discrepancies had increased the tensions among residents in both worlds. Would it be possible for humans to pick and choose their shadows- like customers at a pet store? Would the reverse ever occur?- there were some shadows unaccepting of their partners. What would be the repercussions of separating a bonded pair? Surely, they wouldn’t survive long without each other.

The one human was causing humans to congregate and rebel against their own kind; the unbonded who were afraid of being forced into awful bonds with uncooperative, commanding shadows. 

Even among the bonded, there was unrest. It was unheard of for humans to have the mental fortitude to take on multiple shadows- at one time- and survive. If there were a group of ‘super humans’ with the ability all together… well.. Everyone fears the unknown. At least, a little bit.

Changbin shivered. Just  _ hearing  _ Felix’s voice in his mind had been... a lot. He couldn’t even imagine  _ multiple _ shadows having access to his entire existence. Chan was enough.  _ More  _ than enough.

They  _ had  _ to find the human that was disturbing the natural order.

It was Chan’s duty to his people. And Changbin’s inherent responsibility to support him.


	6. [5] Short Circuited Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I don't really know how to TW this one so just-  
> take care with any and all possible traumas when reading this.  
> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

_**FELIX AND HYUNJIN** _

Unnatural

**_freak_ **

A monster

His flawed existence was ridden with a myriad of names. 

A role foreign to the universe. A mistake that should never have come to be, much less be as conscious and functioning as one Lee Felix.

There would never be a time when he could truly understand himself.

He couldn’t see himself in a mirror- was only confirmed to exist by the few that could interact with his energy. Which was a sick joke because he couldn’t be heard by most of the universe.

No history books ever mentioned his type. Felix was a magical mishap. A miserable enigma that was trapped in the Human Realm on Earth and was constantly being pushed around. No space in the entire universe was meant for the aberration he was.

The Sun and all of the other stars in the universe were too far above his capacity.

So, Lee Felix- two names that he’d taken based on the first few titles he’d stumbled upon when his confusing ‘life’ had started- was stuck; sentenced to wander until either he found his purpose or his energy ran out.

Somehow, he’d been near Hwang Hyunjin when the Terrible Thing had happened. Felix was the only witness to the overwhelming depression that had consumed Hyunjin when the Thing happened. 

Neither of them could explain the coincidence.

Somehow, the hole that was left in Hyunjin’s soul was Felix-Sized. A space perfectly abandoned at the right time, which allowed the timid ball of energy to seep in and blast its newfound hope. With all of his new-born desires- maybe he was just a young shadow with amnesia!?- Felix dreamed of mending the human’s soul back into a state of normal function.

Hwang Hyunjin was never whole again.

No matter how much they talked and explored the world together, the emptiness that had dug its way into the human’s mind and body was deceptively large. And Felix- with all his bright rays, optimistic demeanor, and endless, innocent efforts- could never fill that gap.

So... he stopped trying.

Instead of returning Hyunjin back to a mysterious state that Felix had never even witnessed- Felix changed his goal. Instead of forcing Hyunjin through grief and acceptance, Felix made sure that Hyunjin lived a purposeful life. 

In their search for meaning, the pair discovered the existence of only being in the world that could’ve  _ possibly  _ been the source of Hyunjin’s misery.

Instantly, the human became laser-focused on the threat. Every thought was filled with thoughts of pursuing the awful human who had taken his purpose. Blatantly ignoring his basic human needs like sleep, food and water, and even bodily-safety, Hyunjin relentlessly chased the monster.

The elusive monster who manipulated the world and shamelessly took what wasn’t his.

The arrogant monster who failed to completely eradicate the world of his filthy presence.

The sick fuck of a human who was torturing both humans  _ and _ shadows. The one that never let his victims go alive.

Supposedly.

A few months into their frantic, self-destructive efforts: Hyunjin and Felix had the pleasure of meeting Minho and Jisung.

It was less a ‘friendly meeting over coffee’ and more of a ‘how the fuck did this human get into our base and- oh shit he has a feral shadow with him’.

Despite their frightening potentials- anyone with half a brain could tell that those two radiated strength and danger- the pair was wrecked. Their conditions, even when considered separately, were far worse than the state that Felix found Hyunjin in.

Minho had been covered in cuts and bruises, poorly aimed dots across his body (horrifically, most were in places needles should never enter),  _ and  _ an assortment of liquids. The human was far past shivering, skin translucent with an increasingly purple tinge beneath the colorful mixture of blood, vomit, and excrement. The shadow was draped like a frail cape, thin and wavering, as if its weak energy could somehow save the human from the edge of death.

The healthy pair’s concern for their own safety was thrown out the window as they dove forward in surprisingly synchronous motions. Too many thoughts raced through their heads, all lead by one cumulative desire:

**_Help them._ **

With the last bit of it’s consciousness, the shadow puffed out with spinous shoots, the faint energy quickly becoming chaotic as it struggled to stay present in the human realm.

Palpable motions flew high from the pair; the intensity enough to force Hyunjin and Felix to stop in their tracks.

Tears poured down Hyunjin’s face as the wave impacted every part of his being.

They’d been tortured. 

As if it hadn’t been obvious from what the duo looked like, Hyunjin had desparately hoped his suspicions were false. Lately, there’d been a rise in violence- particularly in the less wealthy sectors of the city- but, nothing like  _ this. _ Nothing that pushed a  _ pair _ so close to death before taking away the luxury away and dumping them in some random warehouse.

It was a new kind of sick that made every step feel blessed.

They had to help them. To find out who’d done it. To prevent it from ever happening again. The idea of such awful treatment being a frequent occurrence in the world made Hyunjin lose faith in the world. There was no way  _ one _ person, all on their own, could inflict such horrid suffering.

If it was the last thing he did- the last breath he ever took- Hyunjin would hunt the bastards down and end their lives with his own hands.

Memories flowed in broken segments through the shadow’ energy. The offensive was a last resort- if he couldn’t disarm the enemies physically, perhaps the mental overload would let Minho survive. Just for a bit longer.

He couldn’t give up- not now. 

Not after suffering for so long and frantically urging his human to remain alive. To not give up on  _ them.  _ They were so close to being free. No one else was in the warehouse but the two enemies- just a little bit longer. 

“We-  _ I- _ just want to help.” Hyunjin’s voice broke with every watery syllable, his empathetic nature carrying him effortlessly into the undertow of misery.

Resonating with the human’s strong wish, Felix’s energy spiked in a way that was more warming than threatening.

“ _ Please. _ Please let us he- help.  _ PLEASE! _ ” Blinding white energy burst through the room, as if a firework had exploded.

All was silent in the aftermath, save for the ragged breathing of both humans. Hyunjin’s legs were shaking with the effort of remaining upright.

Never before had he been so concerned with another human. Never before had he wanted to save another’s life and simultaneously had no idea of what could be done to help. Could he touch the boy? Should he try to feed him? Or just let him do his own thing until he was strong enough to fend for himself, again? What would be proper care? He said they wanted to help- but Hyunjin had no idea of how to go about doing so. What had he gotten himself into?

Slowly, the emotional onslaught de-escalated. The air cleared and the only thing weighing the boys down was their own despair.

The injured human coughed, or attempted to, before weakly curling inward with an expression of excruciating pain. Bloody tears escaped silently along pre-laid tracks.

What had happened to the two should never have occured.

In any universe.

On any timeline.

The pain that Minho and Jisung had experienced, just because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time, should never have been conceivable.

How could a human think to tear away a pairing that was so closely intertwined? Without a care towards ruining both parties?

The thought hit too close to home.

From that day on, Hyunjin made it his mission to nurse the pair back to health- easily put his personal vendetta on the back burner for his new, additional purpose.

Jisung healed quickly. He was strong; a shadow in his prime. With minimal care, he settled into a proper routine. Unprompted, the shadow opened up- perhaps, too much- and willingly recounted the awful events of their recent past. Those dark story-times were saved for after Minho’s bedtime. It was enough for the words to plague their bond while the boy was unconscious; Jisung would  _ never _ allow Minho to go through something so wretched  _ ever _ again. Not even a word of it.

So, during the daytime, Jisung made it his business to ask distracting questions about  _ everything. _ He stuck his nose in the smallest crannies he could find and exposed Hyunjin’s agenda. He was grateful for their rehabilitation; but, it was unlikely that Jisung would ever trust anyone outside of his own partnership. 

Hyunjin was cautious in revealing his  _ exact  _ motivation for hunting the monster. Thankfully, the others accepted his round-about explanation with grace. Felix, in particular, always flared when the talks got too close to  _ The  _ subject. When those energy bursts happened, Jisung immediately fired back with a teasing, “calm down, firecracker”, and Felix would return to his normal, amiable state.

Minho recuperated. However- the elder human wasn’t restored. He was far too jumpy. Too jittery and wary. Too on edge to function properly.

Tiring months were spent meticulously re-socializing the human. Hyunjin, Felix, and especially Jisung, were nothing but patient with him. Step by step, reassuring urgences became reality. It took far longer than anyone expected.

Once, they found Minho in the middle of the warehouse, naked and crying on the floor, with all of the furniture shoved haphazardly against the walls. The boy was pulling at his own hair and muttering, writhing in a puddle of his own liquids.

Without batting an eyelash, Hyunjin had set down their groceries and set to cleaning up. Back then, he still wasn’t able to touch Minho. The best he could manage was mopping up the excrement and draping a blanket over his dependent.

Jisung, in the midst of his own frantic, old language rambles, had thanked Hyunjin and promised, “it’ll be over soon. He’s almost back.”

They treated Minho with fragility. It was easier to act as if Minho was lost in his own mind- on a journey within himself that no one else could witness- than admit he was permanently broken.

If Minho was willing to fight- to adamantly resist the darkness within himself- everyone else could handle waiting for him.

And, indeed, late into the night, Minho had muttered the word Hyunjin had come to associate with himself. The name stuck out against the hum of his electronics, a blaring call that he had learned to listen for, at all times of day.

Jisung’s energy was greatly diminished. They could barely hear the lulling mantra, which had continued long after Minho finally fell silent. 

With Felix’s energy acting as a buffer between their bodies, Minho was more thoroughly cleaned and tucked into Hyunjin’s bed. The way the thin boy’s head lolled, lifeless and unrestrained, it was like he had no bones. If Hyunjin didn’t know that Minho was actually looking far better than he had for the rest of his stay, he would’ve suspected the human to be dead. 

Maybe, he was still teetering on the edge of the realm. 

Hyunjin hoped that wasn’t the case.

Having to utilize Felix’s energy was always draining- but, it was better than tripping another episode. He could deal with the spots in his vision and the heavy breathing. The tremors in his muscles would subside with an ion drink and a few hours. It was  _ nothing _ in comparison to what Minho was going through. 

There was a day that’d been particularly frightening and Hwang Hyunjin will never forgive himself for it.

It’d been towards the beginning of the process, about three weeks in, when a thunderstorm hit. The weather had slowly grown worse over the course of a couple days and no one had cared. No one thought twice about being in a dingy, old building in the middle of a monsoon.

Just a day earlier, Minho had  _ finally _ begun to eat on his own. Just simple foods which were pre-prepared and lightly seasoned. All the human had to do was bring the loaded utensils to his mouth.

Hyunjin had been  _ so  _ proud of their progress. In his elation, he had promised that they could rent a movie and have mint chocolate ice cream- straight out of the tub!

The best part of the elation had been Minho’s response- another first!- a small, one-sided smile.

He was beautiful.

Thin and frail, bones jutting out in all the worst places. Still, Lee Minho’s smile was inarguably the most beautiful thing Hyunjin had ever seen  _ in his life. _

The younger craved more of it. Began acting out and pampering Minho in every way possible. Extraordinarily careful not to overwhelm him with options whilst almost making sure Minho had an input- even if his input was  _ not _ having one.

But.  _ T _ he  _ fucking  _ water had screwed with the shitty electrical box outside and the lights had gone out around two in the morning.

If only Hyunjin and Jisung had the foresight to enforce their agreed-upon standard. If only their foolish elation hadn’t fucked everything up.

Until that point, their lives had become standardized due to a strict, set schedule: 

Every day included three meals and a snack. (Though, they weren’t always successful in getting Minho to finish the food). 

Baths were taken at night- unless a sporadic episode required full body cleaning. 

Just before bed, the humans tidied the warehouse together. Sometimes, Minho would just weakly point out areas Hyunjin had missed. On better days, Minho would help fold laundry or pat dishes dry that Hyunjin had just finished washing. Those were the times that Hyunjin thrived on.

There was always a constant drone of news in the background- a way of staying connected to the outside world.

And, most importantly, only the four of them were allowed in the warehouse. Any delivered mail, food, or groceries were to be picked up curbside. The shadow and the light became familiar, allowing for frequent, easy banter to distract them.

Hyunjin and Minho were the complete opposite. Really, with the way that Minho’s bones poked through every part of his body and his skin was pulled tight, the boy  _ needed  _ the utmost care. The issue- which was glaringly obvious, from the start- was that he couldn’t stand being touched. It seemed like every nerve ending in the elder’s body was right at the surface and  _ always _ fired with an unnecessarily large pain response.

When they’d ‘arrived’, Minho was naked and couldn’t stand the sensation of  _ anything _ near his body. Hands, clothes, blankets- even misted water caused the poor human to lose what little sanity he’d managed to gain.

It’d taken the group two sleepless days to coax Minho into the bathroom. 

Jisung had slipped into the boy’s body and found a way to briefly dull the other’s senses. Unlike any time before they were taken, Minho refused to completely give up consciousness. Some deep, primal part of his existence couldn’t fully comprehend who Jisung was and what his intentions were. The protective instinct was what kept Minho grounded in the world; but, also kept him from interacting with it.

The first shower had lasted less than three minutes because there was no possible way for anyone to stop Minho from screaming and bawling his way into a remarkably fast black out.

Felix’s energy sparked every time Minho cried. No one could explain it. The sunshine, himself, just speculated that  _ maybe  _ his existence was a response to the growing darkness in the world.

A lot of Minho’s basic life necessities had been led by Jisung in the beginning. Bathing, eating, changing clothes, moving.

Guided by Jisung; assisted by Hyunjin; and reacted to by Felix. It was a flawed system from the start.

The storm unforgivingly pressed the reset button on all of their progress.

Minho cried bloody murder in languages too old for anyone but Jisung to understand; the words tearing away from the very base of his soul. 

The darkness was traumatizing to say the least.

Hyunjin knew better than to attempt to console Minho in that state- that was a job only Jisung could begin to attempt. They knew each other best and only the shadow would ever be able to break through the wall of spellwork that was keeping Minho bound to the darkest places of his mind.

The response to Minho’s strife always had to be equivalent. In quality and age. The pair of soulmates screamed together in a haunting duet- the sounds painfully harmonious in the ancient tongue Minho’s brain had fallen into. The tones were deafening.

Felix was too overpowered by the synchronized agony to light the warehouse.

Breaking through the daze that the unfamiliar lyrics had sent him into, Hyunjin leapt up from the bed and sprinted outside. Threw the door open and sputtered as the rain poured down his face. It took a couple seconds before he found his bearing and frantically began searching for that  _ stupid _ fucking box that had been giving him issues since he moved in. It was dark and muddy, but the too-frequent lightning lit his path like a bad stop motion film.

Sure enough, one of the breakers had been tripped.

The moment he threw it, the lights flickered on inside and the deafening screams dissolved into heart-wrenching whimpers.

Minho’s body gave out and was sent into unconsciousness. 

No words got through to the human after that. No matter what promises or desperate deals were proffered, the human stared at the floor with a scary despondency.

Eventually, he’d gathered up the energy and dragged himself to the bathroom. His legs were still too weak to function independently. The ground was rough concrete that scraped against Minho’s unclothed skin as it passed over the surface. Hyunjin couldn’t find it in himself to offer any assistance- so he watched on in horror.

Jisung stayed outside the door, silently, guarding his human with diligence. At consistent intervals, the shadow would check in- only satisfied when he felt vague acknowledgement through the bond.

And that was- by far- the scariest part. For Jisung, at least.

Throughout everything, Minho and Jisung had lived in a solace created between their existences. Regardless of what horrors were occuring to their beings, they took comfort in a paradise they mutually fostered. It’d always been reassuring- 

to have a place where the outside world couldn’t judge them.

to know that there was a being to retreat with.

But, when they arrived in the warehouse, Minho shut him out. Unless Jisung forced his way into command, he couldn’t feel anything from his human. Worse, what little control he  _ did  _ gain, created the sensation of a puppet master. Only the bare minimum of Minho’s operating consciousness was present alongside him. And it always seemed to be pushing Jisung away. 

Nothing resembled the boy he’d grown to love.

Knowing that his human was so deeply wounded that he wouldn’t even let Jisung  _ near _ him? It hurt.

When Minho pulled himself out of the bathroom hours later, he had tear streaks down his face. His legs were covered in half-crusted blood. His long hair was drenched from the failed attempt at restoring his humanity. His body shook from the exertion. Minho collapsed in a wet heap in the doorway of the bathroom.

It worried Hyunjin- of course it did- but it brought a sigh of relief at the same time. Minho was expressing his emotions. It may have been in the privacy of the bathroom- but, he was slowly allowing himself to feel again. 

That was progress.

Then- there was the name.

The mysterious, lilting word that Hyunjin responded to as if he were a trained pet.

Minho, oh-so-conscious, Minho. He called for Hyunjin and pleaded for his help. With Jisung acting as an interpreter for his human’s limits and wishes, they  _ finally  _ managed to help Minho.

Without Felix acting as a buffer.

Without panicked thrashing.

Minho  _ did _ cry when Hyunjin disinfected and bandaged his legs; though, it was mainly just quiet whimpering.

Even through his tears, constant murmurs of thanks streamed from the elder.

Following the breakthrough, Hyunjin and Minho split the bed for the first time. With Minho carefully laid across the taller, they both fell into the first real sleep they’d gotten in months.

Unbeknownst to their hosts, from that day forward, Minho began letting Jisung in more and more. At first it was only faint traces of emotions and thoughts that came through. Then, it was sounds, wordless reactions to the world. 

Better, was when the human began passing words. The language was old. As if Korean was too stressful- too connected to their shared trauma. It allowed for Jisung to more-readily relay Minho’s opinions and wishes, an advancement that made caring for the elder infinitely easier.

Every thought that Minho had was in an old language. His brain had switched into a recovery system that allowed for the most simple processing available. Jisung had no issue processing the change- even managed to joke and lightheartedly comment in the same linguistic nature. As the days passed, and Minho grew healthier, the age of Minho’s choice language grew younger- but, it never quite reached present day Korean.

When Minho spoke his first recognizable word, it was two months into his recovery. Hyunjin had barely missed it, as he was lost in the depths of his many computers. The word, which was in a dialect from the age of the Three Kingdoms, meant ‘thank you’.

Hyunjin cried. Felix nearly short circuited. And Jisung was able to- for the first time in two months- help Minho into a proper outfit. Including socks. At long last.


	7. [Update and Conclusion]

_ HELLO! _

For those of you wondering, this plotline hasn’t been abandoned. Given recent developments, I’m working to rewrite it because of the involvement of Woojin. He was too integral to the past plotline for me to just work around or change the name, like I’ve seen others do.

Thus, I’m going to reveal what the plot  _ was _ intended to be written as. In a month, or so, this story will be taken down and I plan to publish more of a one-shot style collection of moments integral to this world, until I settle on an overarching plot I’m satisfied with. Reading the following explanation will still pertain to future developments, though the exact events will differ.

**CHANGBIN:** Most powerful ShadowHolder in all of the realms. Pretty terrible at self-care. Tests Chan’s dedication on a consistent basis due to their past. Extremely connected to his shadow and has high control unless caught up in emotions. His negativity feeds Chan. Librarian.

**CHAN:** Shadow King. Hated by his subjects because he became connected to his human. Even though he’s not present, he still expects a high level of obedience from shadows. Not afraid of using his strength. Ancient.

**HYUNJIN:** Human. Skittish. Lost his previous shadow due to a past event. ‘Somehow’ became bonded to Felix. Positivity feeds Felix. Hyunjin goes out at night because he’s afraid of shadows and that’s when they’re weakest. Extremely tech-savvy. Very caught up in the past and finds it difficult to move on.

**Felix:** The embodiment of Sunshine. The only one of his kind in current existence, though Chan seems to have some freakish understanding of Felix- more than the boy does himself. Doesn’t get along with Chan. Extremely protective of Hyunjin. Memories only trace back to when he bonded with Hyunjin.

**Minho:** Vigilante. Human. Sneaky as shit with the brains to support individual missions. Has been known to work with Hyunjin because he’s more of a hands-on type. Is the only one known to actually fall in love with his shadow. Biggest fear is losing Jisung. Dominant streaks of unbending will. Not afraid to get his hands dirty. Low-key alcoholic.

**Jisung:** Minho’s shadow. Fast thinking and often protects Minho selflessly. Gets yelled at for not caring what happens to himself, as a result. Untrusting. Acts before thinking. High accuracy, low endurance, low overall power. One of the most efficient at drawing from his human, since their connection is open and mutually accepted.

**Seungmin:** Shadow. Lost. Unbound, yet somehow can travel between the human realm and the shadow realm. Paired with Jeongin as one of Woojin’s top lackeys. Feels a bond, though it’s in pieces and extremely faint. Shadows love Seungmin. Kind of has princess vibes.

**Jeongin:** Shadow. Free agent. Completely unbound, but freakishly strong and older than he looks. Wary of humans. Knowledgeable of dark rituals and bondings, since that is the focus of his research. Woojin tried to force him into being his shadow; but failed. Mostly. Not that Woojin knows that. Jeongin carries a strange bit of humanity that aids him in temporarily possessing humans. Did I mention he’s the Shadow Prince?

Essentially, the plot was that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Minho all investigate into an increasingly powerful source of Evil in the human realm. Chan is a bit of an ass but it’s because he’s experienced so much in the time he’s been alive. He tends to bully the members into a certain direction in one of those ‘I can’t tell you directly because of the butterfly effect’ type of ways. Though, Chan has never seen a human as ballsy as Woojin before.

Changbin is the first human Chan had ever been bound to and thus it’s difficult for them to maintain an acceptable amount of power without Chan ruining his human’s life. Enter Felix. Felix is basically a freak of nature. A baby ball of light that can soothe away the overwhelming depression that Chan can easily inflict if he stops trying to cap his shadowness. In the end, they balance out as an OT3 situation. Chan and Felix, dark vs light, with Changbin as a vessel.

Hyunjin is motivated to find his dear shadow that is out there-  _ somewhere, he can feel it _ . He rests very little and goes pretty insane if his daily routine of searching is messed with too much. Felix tries to help him, desperately, though they are like two puzzle pieces with one size mismatched. All Hyunjin wants is for Seungmin to return and to end the person who thought to separate them.

Minho just wants to protect Jisung. And he can’t very well do that when they get caught up in the drama of the other five’s lives. With the threat of Woojin’s experiments growing larger, Minho just wants it all to end so that he can live peacefully.

Woojin… well he’s just an evil asshole. Some creepy mastermind that is motivated by loneliness, greed, and jealousy. He grew up bullied by people that had shadows. After experiencing enough traumatic events he decided to fight back. Build an army of shadows- who wants one when you can harness the energy of thousands? Some shadows join him willingly, out of hatred for Chan’s overbearing dictatorship. Others are ripped from their humans by his experiments. Takes joy in hurting others because he thinks it balances out the world in return for what he went through.

In the end, Woojin was intended to have a redemption arc that paired with the events of Chan falling for him. The influence of ~love~ on both of them was enough for Chan to back off his leadership style, hand over the realm to Jeongin, and continue living as Changbin’s shadow. The situation Changbin finds himself in- his shadow being in love with another human- is handled through Felix’s condolences and constant care. Seungmin, through the magical powers of the strangely powerful Jeongin, is returned to Hyunjin’s side. Eventually, Jeongin comes around to seek Seungmin’s advice and comfort enough that Hyunjin grows attached to him, as well.

Long live the happy OT9.

WELLP. I guess things will change now. Hopefully the new storyline will be as intriguing to everyone as I found this one to be. I don’t think I can get the imagery of humans/shadows out of my head enough to leave the concept behind. ((BTW this was completely un-beta’d so sorry if it’s all nonsense.))

Cheers everyone,

Stay healthy~

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°


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